Lust
by kittytrypsin
Summary: Team Sheppard travels to a new world to establish friendly trade but the natives have their eye on something that's not on the table. Set season 3 pre-Sunday as I'm too fond of Carson, with Elizabeth and a few OCs. Rated K , violence, cussing but NO sex!
1. Chapter 1

_**Lust**_

Part of the Seven Deadly Sins series – see Proverbs (Old Testament).

Definition:craving, usually of a sexual nature, which can involve bestiality, adultery, rape and incest.

Summary:The Atlantis crew travel to another new planet in the hope of securing trade agreements (WOW, what a novel idea for a story!) but they meet a race of people whose idea of what is tradable leaves a lot to be desired.

My first attempt at an SGA story and the usual disclaimers apply – the Stargate franchise belongs to some other very lucky people. I own nothing apart from my mistakes, my computer and two naughty cats so don't sue me. I promise to put the characters of Stargate Atlantis back in the toy box after playing with them since no-one will let me keep them.

This is set in season 3 pre-Sunday for obvious reasons...poor Carson, poor us!

Team fic with Elizabeth, OCs and whumpage.

All comments are welcome but please remember that I am not a professional writer and that this is just for fun.

TEASER

"Ronan…wake _UP_, you great useless lump of rat's-tailed lard…I can't find anyone else and I've been throwing up for what's probably been _hours_ and will most likely go hypoglycaemic any moment now and you're just lying there, snoring!"

Rodney McKay had been shuffling again towards his team mate and now shook the leather-clad shoulder enthusiastically, at the same time clutching his pounding head and looking more than a little green about the gills. He'd wakened some time before to that same pounding headache and a stomach threatening to erupt from his throat and shake him by the hand, and after a fruitless fight with the darned organ had simply staggered to the nearest door and heaved onto the dusty soil as if it was the latest Olympic sport and he was going for gold.

Emptying his stomach of quite a considerable quantity had left him shaky and wretched and he longed for someone to share his misery with. After all, misery loved company. He'd cast a quick glance around for his team and apart from the snoring Satedan slouched across the table there was absolutely no-one around…neither team member nor even a single, solitary native of the planet they presently found themselves on. Or at least McKay had to assume they were still on the same planet, if only he could remember which one.

He sat down hard beside Ronan, lowering his fragile head onto cupped hands, and sighed. Try as he might he couldn't recall what had brought them to their current state. He had no idea where Sheppard and Teyla were or if anyone else from Atlantis should be there, too, and he really _hated_ being sick, especially when Carson wasn't around with his good drugs. He shoved at Ronan's arm again, almost violently and definitely petulantly.

"C'mon…waken up already. The others could be in trouble…not that we're not!"

Persistence was rewarded with a gargantuan groan from the downed man and McKay wisely stepped back a foot or three as Ronan regained consciousness. Around his team mates he had gradually learned to be a cautious man when wakening them. Each and every one of them was capable of breaking his neck without any undue effort and it didn't pay to stand too close to a warrior when they might be surfacing from a nightmare. And if Rodney's imaginative view of his current awake state was to be believed, this WAS a nightmare.

The shaggy head rose slowly from where Ronan had collapsed across the table as he sat and McKay shared a modicum of sympathy, knowing that if Ronan felt anything close to how he himself had felt on first waking, that odorous pile by the door would shortly be added to. As if by mental command Ronan rose rapidly to shaky legs and just about made the door before tossing his stomach contents onto the street.

McKay wrinkled his nose in disgust and looked around for something they could both rinse their mouths with. He spotted a pitcher in the middle of the table and sniffed the contents suspiciously. It smelled pungent and something about that made him discard it instantly. They had no idea as to why they were so sick to the stomach and he wasn't too keen on imbibing unknown drinks. They'd just have to go without until such times as they could find a source of liquid that was beyond suspicion.

Ronan turned back from the door, his face ashen and drenched in sweat and Rodney totted up their chances.

'_Screwed is what we are, totally and utterly screwed. Probably poisoned and the others could be dead or dying or even Wraith-bait for all we know.'_ His internal musings gave him little comfort and he wasn't good at waiting for others to come up with the soothing optimisms. Sheppard was Colonel Optimism, always telling him to try and stay positive, and right about now he _was_ positive...that they were right royally screwed.

Ronan grabbed the pitcher McKay had recently spurned and before Rodney could tell him how wrong an idea it was the man had taken a long draught from it. McKay watched in horror, waiting for his only immediate companion to collapse again but Ronan hadn't spent seven years on the run not to have learned a trick or two. He merely rinsed and spat, thereby refreshing his mouth without swallowing.

It seemed to help and he nudged the pitcher under McKay's nose encouragingly. The ever-fastidious scientist wiped the edge with his sleeve much to Ronan's recovering humour and took a cautious swig, spitting out almost before he'd taken a spoonful. When he discovered he hadn't instantly keeled over he took a slightly larger mouthful and with great delight spat it out again, the resulting refreshment worth the risk.

Ronan shook his dreadlocked head carefully and seemed to rally even as McKay was finishing his oral hygiene.

"Where're the others?" he mumbled, still not quite as awake as McKay.

"Ah, my large shaggy friend, that's the million dollar question. Where, indeed?"__


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER ONE

John nursed a hopefully optimistic feeling in his gut as he looked around at the town's councillors seated before him. They looked a harmless bunch, slightly less technologically advanced than the scientists had hoped but certainly more civilised than the indigenous people of many planets the Lanteans had visited. This was PX3-something or other unfathomable and they'd arrived by jumper a few hours ago, parking it cloaked some way from where they now stood. Well, there was no point in going in straight-off and advertising all of your technology before you knew what sort of people you were dealing with, was there? They'd learned to be cautious, some might even say downright suspicious, ever since their first meeting with the Genii had turned right round and delivered a sucker punch.

The ancients' database hadn't held any further information on the planet, which was comforting in that it certainly hadn't been catalogued as aggressive, and the locals had been quick to let them know its name… Laposta. That made John think of warm summer days sipping a nice crisp wine in the company of tanned and lithely energetic Italian signorinas. There'd been that one particular dark-haired, almond-eyed beauty, more than willing…

His attention was dragged back to the here and now as he was once again addressed. He tried to swallow the lascivious grin he'd known he was sporting as he'd reminisced about Gina and those legs that had gone on for ever and what she'd been able to do with them and he cast a furtive glance at Rodney to see if he'd been caught. From the scowl Dr Meredith Rodney McKay was sending his way John was sure their resident self-confessed genius had added mind reading to his already impressive résumé and would be giving the soldier a lecture on not paying suitable attention in class. Not that he wouldn't have given Gina _all_ of his attention had _she_ been to hand…

"Colonel Sheppard, we are delighted to welcome you and your people to our humble town. I can see by your clothing and weaponry that your world is more advanced than ours but still we welcome the opportunity to learn from each other."

The speaker was the town's designated spokesman, a small, balding and heavily perspiring creature who'd pressed his damp hand into John's firm clasp on exchanging a handshake and if John had had the almost uncontainable urge to wipe his palm on his sleeve he'd manfully resisted. He grinned now at the man, hoping they could get to negotiate trade agreements before the man dissolved in a puddle at their feet.

"Thanks, Waldo, we're _very_ pleased to be here, too. It's nice to meet people who aren't aiming weapons or trying to steal from us." John fired his most charming smile at the man and turned to include the seated councillors, some of whom nodded in seeming understanding at his sentiments.

"It's Waldon, Colonel, not Waldo," the exasperated townsman reminded him, _again._

McKay sniggered at the look Sheppard returned to the good citizen. Others might have taken that look for one of apologetic acquiescence but the scientist was getting better at reading Sheppard's expressions, or at least those he allowed through his mask, and that look said this matter was definitely far from finished. The glint in the man's eye just confirmed it and Rodney sat back metaphorically to enjoy the ride. Elizabeth may well have been the diplomat of the expedition but if there was someone guaranteed to annoy people on first meeting it had to be that arrogant, spiky-haired fly-boy USAF pilot, John Sheppard, and Rodney did so enjoy watching the subsequent fall-out and frequent berating said fly-boy got from Elizabeth when the proverbial 'ess-aitch-one-tee' hit the fan!

"Sure, Waldo…er, Waldon. Sorry." Sheppard looked far from sorry so he quickly looked about him to camouflage the fact. "Um, not that it isn't an honour to have your entire council roll out for the meet and greet but we weren't expecting such a grand welcome just to talk groceries."

"Groceries?" Waldon rolled the unusual word around his tongue, tasting and nipping at it and not finding anything with which to compare it so he spat it out again. "Groceries?"

"Provisions," Teyla explained patiently, getting well used to having to expound on the many quirky expressions her companions from Earth liked to litter their speech with. Both she and Ronan often had to also translate for the team when some expression native to the Pegasus galaxy had them bamboozled.

John watched the expressive faces of the Lapostan councillors as Teyla insinuated herself into the negotiations and he was disquieted by what he read there. Teyla was a beautiful young woman, more than capable of kicking ass when need be but possessed of a gentleness of soul that drew people to her. The way the men folk of that council were suddenly sitting straighter and paying sharper attention bridled with John in a protective sort of way. He could imagine, if he tried hard enough, them sucking in their abs to improve their profiles.

It wasn't that he objected to the fact that the men were listening more attentively to her than him although he _had_ told that security guard on the _Aurora_ that he didn't like being ignored. No, this was more of a protective big brother sort of thing and he swore he'd never tell _**her**_ that or she'd give his ass a proper Athosian whumping.

'_No_,' he rationalised internally, '_this is merely looking out for the team. After all, if those same men had suddenly started looking longingly at, well, Rodney for example, I'd have done something about it. Maybe laugh myself silly, but, yeah, definitely something!.'_

"Yeah, provisions," he muttered, anxious to take control of the situation again. He grinned as he watched most of the heads slowly swivelling his way again, nodding as congenially as he could. "We've lots of mouths to feed, bellies to fill and goods to trade."

Waldon reluctantly dragged his own openly admiring glance away from the young Athosian and regarded the man who was their visitors' spokesperson.

"You are the leader of your people, Colonel?"

"Not likely," Rodney snorted before John could stop him. "That would be Dr Elizabeth Weir you'd need to speak to. She's back on Atl…er, our home world. Colonel Sheppard is our military commander."

The scathing look John sent Rodney's way would have blistered the skin off a rhinoceros and left it in a puddle of gloop but Rodney McKay was made of sterner stuff. He merely smirked and rocked on the balls of his feet at Sheppard's discomfort. Their constant games of one-upmanship sometimes got out of hand even amongst these two most unlikely of friends but neither man saw the need to call it quits.

"Thank you, McKay, I _was_ going to make that clear at the appropriate moment," John managed to get out through clenched teeth, the unspoken meaning clearly stating that this was NOT that appropriate moment. He chewed down on his anger, trying to rationalize why this information leak suddenly seemed like such a big deal. It wasn't as if they'd intended to lie to these people but John's gut was screaming for attention and he'd learned the hard way too often about ignoring it.

"Oh, well…no problem, I just saved you the bother." Rodney puzzled over Sheppard's obvious anger, trying to fathom why his friend seemed to be on the verge of hitting him. Had he skipped a couple of pages in the script where it had been revealed that these people were slave traders on the look out for a green-eyed brunette diplomat skilled in many languages and negotiations? He thought not!

He looked around as casually as he could, trying to get a feel for the people packing the meeting hall. He took in the plain furnishings, plain garb of the townsfolk and decidedly plain faces staring back at him, especially the women. His roaming eye caught the attention of one particularly buxom wench who seemed fascinated by him and he was just storing up a jibe to deliver to Colonel 'Kirk' about being the first to score when she graced him with her most winning smile.

He'd been inspecting her hairstyle, deliberating that it gave Radek Zelenka's post-children's-planet styling a run for its money, when he took in the revelation that was her smile. What few teeth she still possessed were yellowed and decaying rapidly and it took all of his self-control to stifle the Mount Logan-sized shudder he felt brewing and trying to erupt from him.

Too often negotiations had broken down into outright hostility over something as equally trivial as a slight to one of the womenfolk of a new race and he wasn't keen to add yet another hit to his tally. '_Much better to let Sheppard remain firmly ahead in that particular competition._ _Oh yes!'_

He forced his attention away from the local minx and tried to concentrate on what was going on. Waldo (and oh but _that_ was going to stick!) was spouting again, and these people did like to command attention.

"We are keen to learn of what you would trade, Colonel Sheppard, but we are a peaceful nation, unfamiliar with trading with warriors such as yourself. Perhaps if we could meet with Dr Elizabeth Weir (Rodney thought it amusing the way they didn't know to abbreviate the title) we could come to a firm understanding beneficial to both our peoples."

"I can't put a finger on anything, Elizabeth, but I could quite cheerfully choke McKay for adding you to the equation before we'd got to know them a bit better."

John had made his way alone back to the jumper to report in. He'd be the first to admit that diplomacy and negotiations were not two of his strongest skills, preferring actions over words every time. At the start of the expedition and their forays off-world he'd blundered in where angels feared to tread and had memorably traded weapons to the Genii (and hadn't _that_ come back to bite him in the ass!) but he was slowly learning to be more circumspect and not go offering more than had been pre-agreed. He was also learning that Elizabeth trusted him more and more not to sell Atlantis out from under their feet but where necessary she still travelled off-world for trade deals.

"But you can't actually pinpoint a threat, isn't that what you're NOT saying?" she teased. She knew all too well how protective John was of her. Even at the very start when she'd added him to their already full compliment of soldiers he'd taken to looking to her for confirmation of Colonel Sumner's orders, knowing that he was only there because _she'd_ requested it. When he'd eventually had to assume command they'd had a few moments where civilian and military ideas had clashed, but overall she trusted him to look after the best interests of the entire expedition, and especially her own.

She mentally shook herself from her ruminations as she realised that once again he was trying to wrap her in cotton wool. Here she was, far from Earth and living a fantasy life, one albeit fraught with danger, but if she didn't maintain control of _why_ she was here, she might as well go home.

Sheppard's sigh could be clearly heard in the gate room by those personnel listening to the open broadcast between the civilian and military leaders and more than a few eyes rolled and bets were laid. No-one would refute that Colonel Sheppard had pulled their collective butts from the fire on many occasions but the man took protectiveness to new heights. Equally stubborn, however, was Dr Weir when it came to her belief that she was right.

"Okay, I can't determine a threat, and maybe this feeling I have in my gut is related to that questionable hotpot I had last night in the mess, but I'd be happier if you sat this one out," Sheppard muttered, knowing it as a lost cause but having to try, anyway.

"To paraphrase a statement of yours from the start of our expedition, John, this is why _I_ was sent here. I'm first and foremost a negotiator and what sort of message would I be sending if I turned down a perfectly harmless invitation to meet these people face to face? If your team is secured, why don't you fly back and pick me up? I trust you implicitly to keep me safe."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Two**_

"Dr Weir, let me introduce Waldo…Waldo, this is Dr Elizabeth Weir." John completed the introductions, not failing to notice the glint in the councillor's eyes.

"Wald_on_, Dr Elizabeth Weir," the small man hurried to clarify and Elizabeth smiled inside at John's childish behaviour. "And may I say how charmed I am to meet you. Colonel Sheppard failed to mention how beautiful you are."

Elizabeth blushed at the words of the gushing man, a smirk of her own fired at her second in command. "Did he, now? Colonel, how very ungallant of you!" She turned back to the perspiring, liquefying puddle beside her. "And please call me just Elizabeth. There's no need for such formality."

John rolled his eyes at the smarmy little man, managing quite entirely to ignore the baleful look Wal_do_ fired his way. He secretly hoped the man _would_ call her 'just Elizabeth' for the laugh it would provide him.

He glanced around casually to locate his team members but they were conspicuous by their absence. He noted that old Waldo had linked arms with Elizabeth even though she towered over him by at least six inches and was gazing up into her face.

'_He'll have a serious neck problem by the time we're leaving here,'_ John thought, amusing himself by the idea and the image it conjured up.

"Colonel Sheppard, why don't you allow Mee'hr to show you some of our town whilst Elizabeth and our council discuss matters of trade?" Waldon indicated one of the women standing nearby.

She stepped forward, beaming at him in her most dazzling smile, displaying an alarming set of gnashers and John made a mental note to ask Carson about Fluoride supplements.

"Nope, quite fine where I am, thanks. You just pretend I'm not here and you'll hardly even notice me," he beamed right back, his own perfect white teeth a sharp contrast to the dental distress that seemed prevalent in this village. '_What was it about the Pegasus galaxy that led to such orthodontic disintegration?'_ he mused, reminding himself not to include Ronan or Teyla.

Perhaps they had something they could safely trade, after all. What price some toothpaste and brushes? He could just picture O'Neill's sardonic eyebrow lift at that requisition order. _'You want HOW many new toothbrushes, Sheppard? What exactly are you people doing with them…attacking the Wraith in hand-to-brush combat? I know you said their teeth were bad, but seriously…'_

Elizabeth smiled knowingly at him but at the same time was grateful for his dogged determination to stick to her like a shadow. She too had learned that his gut instincts were too often correct. She conjured up an entirely fictitious excuse that would allow John to remain where he was.

"You'll have to excuse Col Sheppard, Waldon, but protocol dictates that he or his designated deputy remains by my side at all times where possible when I'm on off-world visits." She tried really hard to keep her face straight as the colonel's eyebrows waggled suggestively and that infuriating smirk played at his lips. She'd have to have a serious talk with her 2IC very soon.

Waldon seemed slightly peeved but accepted the situation as graciously as he could and invited Elizabeth to some comfortable seats, purposefully leaving the soldier to find his own.

John had no intention of stepping out of that meeting house but he needed to assure himself that the others were okay. It was most out of character for Rodney not to have met the jumper's return, if only to moan to Elizabeth that his time was too valuable and his huge brain being wasted on such an away mission when there didn't seem to be any technology worth a dime. John could almost hear the man's whine if he concentrated hard enough.

He leant out through the doorway, effectively keeping Elizabeth within earshot and being able to scan the immediate vicinity. After several moments he heard a squeal of delighted children's voices and spotted a throng of small bodies almost carrying the missing scientist along in their enthusiasm.

Rodney looked up from where he'd been glowering at the children and made eye contact with his team leader and supposed friend. John grinned as he read the pleading look for rescue and chose to ignore it. Pay back was sweet! It never failed to entertain him that wherever they met children they were drawn like magnets to the surly scientist like bees to honey. John had heard once that cats could sense when humans didn't like them and invariably wrapped themselves around that person's legs. Maybe Rodney was giving off that same message and these children were the Pegasus answer to felines, or maybe Rodney was this galaxy's version of the Pied Piper of Hamlin. Whatever the cause, John had suffered one too many Kirk references to leap immediately to his friend's rescue. Let him stew a while.

"Everyone ok, Rodney?" he called out, waiting only long enough to get a terse shake of the head from McKay. He shot him a cheeky grin and rude salute then ducked back inside the building. He wanted to concentrate fully on Elizabeth and Rodney could just play with the rug-rats for a little longer. After all, he didn't seem in any danger.

Rodney watched, exasperated, as Sheppard moved back inside the meeting hall. He turned his attention once again to his hot, smelly, far-too-close audience. Had these people no concept of personal space?

"Alright, you've been following me for long enough, now. I've nothing left to tell you that your tiny brains could possibly comprehend, so shoo, go away, go play with something dangerous." His fingers and thumb did a quickstep as inspiration struck. "Go find the very tall man with the long hair. You know, he just loves having things rolled into it, like sticks and leaves. Just don't tell him _I_ told you that."

He watched with immense satisfaction as his erstwhile companions squealed in fresh delight and scampered off in the direction they'd last seen Ronan, and if he foresaw pain in his immediate future for that trick he'd take it on the chin like a man. It would be worth it just to get rid of his fan base and some peace and quiet. And he'd be having words with Sheppard about abandoning him to his torture.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

John had almost dozed off on more than one occasion in spite of his misgivings about Elizabeth being here, but the heat of the afternoon was draining and he was in full BDUs complete with TAC vest, and the soporific murmur of voices from the councillors and their visitor droned through his head until he had to force himself to his feet.

Elizabeth looked over as he rose to stand and he nodded at her that he was fine and was just stretching his legs. Maybe a breath of fresh air at the door would waken him.

Stepping to the portal he was almost bowled off his feet by the sudden violent entrance of a human tree. Or at least that's what he first thought it was, what with the twigs and things. He took a step backwards and cast an assessing gaze at his team-mate. The last time he'd seen Ronan looking so pissed they'd been facing down some persistent Wraith on Sateda.

"Um, hey big guy, new look?" John ventured, knowing full well that he was risking life and limb in annoying the already furious man before him.

"Where is that one-legged son of a skreel?" Dex almost shouted, causing the councillors and Elizabeth to glance his way. He was slowly learning more and more insults using earth animals but if ever a situation was appropriate for a one-legged skreel, in his opinion this was it.

"Hey buddy, watch your language, there are ladies present," John chided, amused. "So, any particular one-legged skreel you have in mind?" he asked, knowing full well who was probably at the top of Ronan's most wanted list. He fought hard to keep his smirk swallowed.

"He'll be a one-eyed, half-cocked, legless skreel if I find out he'd anything to do with this," Ronan scowled. "Was on look-out from that barn over there when I thought rats were gnawing at my hair. Seems it was McKay's rats in the loft of the barn with him no-where around."

John was impressed at Ronan's eloquence. Normally it took at least a week to get that many words from the man, and not usually in as much sense, either.

"Gentlemen, is everything alright?" Elizabeth murmured in their ears. She'd managed to extricate herself from the council and was standing gazing in good humour at Ronan's new styling.

"Just the town's kids welcoming Ronan like a local," John grinned, refusing to acknowledge that the Satedan was emulating a volcano on a slow boil.

Elizabeth's eyebrows rose delicately but she didn't comment further on the matter. "Well, we've come to a halt with negotiations for today and Waldon has invited us to share their evening meal and stay overnight. Apparently tomorrow is the start of their harvest and an excellent time to inspect the quality of their wares. Colonel, why don't you let our friends back home know we'll be staying out tonight and not to worry."

"What about me? Am I allowed to worry?" John muttered, loud enough for Elizabeth and Ronan to hear, but discretely.

"Could I stop you?"

John just grinned. This woman had the measure of him, and then some.

Teyla and Rodney chose that moment to return to the gathering and if Rodney had a sudden coughing fit that was _his_ business. He could always blame a high pollen count, because being _that_ close to all those twigs and leaves in Ronan's hair had to be bad for him. Teyla pulled one or two twigs free and graced Ronan with a look of complete understanding. Sometimes the two Pegasus-native team-mates were surrounded by more children than they discovered on the planets.

"Yeah, well, Teyla and Twig-man can stay with you, Elizabeth. Rodney, take a walk with me." John grabbed his arm, not giving the man a chance to refuse, although he could do nothing to stop the complaint.

"Why do I have to go anywhere with you? In case you hadn't noticed I'm hot and sticky and probably developing skin cancer even as we speak. Did you even listen when I explained about the twin suns and high UV radiation? I should be sheltering inside a nice cool hut with a long, refreshing drink, not back-packing with you!"

"You're right, McKay. What was I thinking of? Okay, _you_ and Ronan stay with Elizabeth. Teyla, you're with me."

Now Rodney would tell anyone that he was a genius in two galaxies so it didn't take being hit over the head with a two-by-four to see the huge pile of trouble he'd just offered to roll in by being even in Ronan's shadow for a while. With surprising alacrity he was beside Sheppard before Teyla could respond, and failed to see the knowing smile the Athosian sent his way. She, Elizabeth and Ronan watched with matching sighs as Sheppard and McKay trudged out of the town back in the direction of the jumper. Life could certainly not be described as boring in their company.

"Come on, Ronan, let's get you de-twigged," Elizabeth murmured, allowing herself a shared smile with Teyla. Their men-folk were sometimes more like little boys than was good for the women!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Many thanks to all who have taken the time to leave a review. Reviews are like food to the starving, precious and gratefully received.

_Chapter three_

The following morning, having endured what he considered a mind-numbingly boring evening with their hosts and what passed for a hearty meal, Rodney stood on the step and stretched his spine in a vain attempt to remove the kinks. If these peasants thought they'd provided their guests with the plushest of available accommodations he shuddered to think what the alternative had been.

Waldon had insisted that they sleep in his home and had shuffled his family off onto the neighbours without so much as a consultation with the missus and Rodney had been so tired after the day's trekking back and forth to even refuse the probably flee-infested mattress. He'd just been glad that by the time he and Sheppard had trudged to and from the jumper Elizabeth and Teyla had calmed Ronan to the point where he was just whittling on one of the larger twigs from his hair. Although, Rodney thought, he was whittling that stick into an unnecessarily sharp point...

Sheppard and the whittler appeared from the room behind him and Rodney tried not to look as if he was scampering out of Ronan's way. John just grinned at him as they stretched their legs in preparation for a morning jog. Teyla had stayed with Elizabeth to ensure their safety overnight, in spite of John's tongue-in-cheek reminder to his leader that she'd said he'd to remain by her side at all times. She'd taken great delight in wiping the cheesy grin from his face when reminding him that his deputy was available in the more than competent form of Teyla Emmagen.

"Stay close to the others, Rodney. I don't think there's any danger but give us a shout on the radio if you've any doubts. We're just going to do a loop of the path around the town and check if there's anything we weren't shown yesterday, so could be back before you've even finished a girly scream."

Rodney bristled at the implied slur to his courage. "Try not to strain anything on your run with Conan, and don't stop off to flirt with the women. Seriously, have you _seen_ their teeth? I don't know what they're planning to harvest here today but if their dental decrepitude is anything to go by it must be high in sugar."

Ronan snarled at him as he passed by and Sheppard smirked again at Rodney's smothered whimper.

'_Cocky flyboy and his tame Wookie!'_ McKay thought as he watched them take off with an easy loping gait. Perhaps he should stop referring to Sheppard as Kirk and start to think more along the lines of Han Solo. But then that would cast Teyla or Elizabeth as Princess Leia and he tried very hard not to imagine either one of them in that leather and chain-link bikini number or the weird hair buns.

He was saved from any more disturbing thoughts by the arrival of one of those very same women, thankfully quite safely attired in her normal uniform.

"Good morning, Rodney. Did I hear Colonel Sheppard's voice just now?" Elizabeth gave him a warm smile as she allowed herself a small yawn and gentle stretch.

"Gone off with Chewbacca to check out the lie of the land. You should know by now he's the suspicious type, always thinking there's something we've not been told or shown."

"And _you_ should know by now that those very suspicions have saved us many times, Rodney," Teyla gently chided as she moved silently behind him.

Rodney gave a yelp and leapt away from the person invading his personal space and Teyla smiled softly at him. She was well aware of the prickly scientist's need for space and the fact that he was uncomfortable around women and although she was genuinely fond of him it didn't stop her mischievously teasing him from time to time. She suspected that the colonel's impishness was rubbing off on her.

"Yes, yes…that may be but the man's paranoid. I mean, look around you. There's nothing more threatening here than impending toothlessness or a hyperglycaemic coma. Did you _taste_ that wine at last night's meal? Pure mead. There's many a monk back on Earth who'd give their eye teeth for that recipe. Er…okay, bad simile, but you get my idea."

The two women did take a moment to regard their immediate surroundings and had to admit that it was the picture of bucolic tranquillity. The day was young enough that the promised heat hadn't yet reached stifling proportions and the lazy haze over the surrounding fields created a soothing rustic peace. Those of the town's citizens who could be seen were going about their routines with little more than a smile of greeting and nod of the head towards their visitors and even Teyla had to admit that the idea of danger lurking here was far-fetched. The whole scene reminded Rodney of something vaguely Amish.

A short time after their conversation Sheppard and Ronan returned and once they'd freshened up the team made their way towards the meeting house, hoping to wrap up the negotiations and return home before they all developed diabetes.

Of course Waldon wouldn't hear of them negotiating until after the reaping, something about the time of the day for best yield, and they had had to endure the not inconsiderable heat whilst the harvest was gathered in. Sheppard, Ronan and Teyla offered their assistance and by the end of the morning were hot, dusty and weary to the point of exhaustion, much to the amusement of McKay. He, of course, had pleaded fair skin and bug allergies and a short supply of his factor 100 sun cream and stayed beside Elizabeth in the cool of the shade, for all purposes claiming he would keep Elizabeth from harm's way.

So when negotiations resumed Rodney felt a hitherto unknown generosity towards these new trade partners and ventured in where angels feared to tread.

"You know, we've got something else we could offer you by way of trade," Elizabeth heard him say. She turned a questioning eye on him, her eyebrow raised. McKay chose to ignore that imperious look and blundered on. "We're a lot more advanced in medicine and although I don't tell him too often for fear of his head exploding, our doctor could probably do something for you with regard to your...er...dental problems."

"Rodney, don't you think this is something we should have discussed in private?" Elizabeth cautioned, clearly annoyed but remaining controlled.

The McKay hand merely waved perfunctorily as if to erase her comment.

"Seriously, Elizabeth, it would be morally wrong of us to deprive these people of the help they so obviously are crying out for. I've no doubt at all that Carson would be more than willing to offer them even the basics in dental education."

Elizabeth looked up as a figure cast a shadow before them and took in the weary form of her military commander.

"What's McKay giving away with his customary missionary zeal, now?" John asked, plonking down onto his butt with obvious relish at being off his feet and in the shade. His aviator glasses were removed to reveal just how weary he was and Elizabeth surmised that if they were flying home this evening Rodney would fight for the jumper controls and John might just let him have them.

"Very amusing, Colonel, at least it wasn't C4. I merely pointed out that Carson, or probably a better idea, that orthodontist…what's his name…" a snapping of fingers heralded the answer, "McTeeth…could offer these people some advice and it might procure us an extra trade for, say, those nice watermelon thingies."

John's eyebrows rose. "We have an orthodontist called McTeeth? Seriously?" He magnanimously ignored the comment about the C4 in the hope that old Waldo wouldn't pick up on it and ask for an explanation. They seriously didn't need another Genii situation.

Elizabeth swallowed her annoyance at Rodney's obvious ignoring of the chain of command protocol and had to acknowledge that if ever a race of people needed his inspired offer, it was the Lapostans.

"That would be Dr McKeith you're referring to, Rodney, and whilst I agree that it's a reasonable offer, I still would remind you that there are ways to raise such discussions."

She cast a quick glance at Waldon who was listening with open interest at the suggested additional trade, even if he wasn't quite on the same page when discussing orthodontics.

"You have something else to add to our trade agreement, Elizabeth?" Waldon found his voice.

"I can't speak for a third party, Waldon, but I imagine Dr McKeith could be persuaded to, at the very least, talk to you and your people." Elizabeth turned like quicksilver to her chief scientist, knowing her next suggestion might just let him know she was more than a little peeved with him. "Rodney, why don't you take the...er...head back and let Dr McKeith in on your suggestions, and help him bring back any necessary supplies."

"What? What am I, a glorified errand boy?" The expected explosion didn't disappoint.

"This was your idea, Doctor," and Rodney was smart enough to catch the hint of steel when Elizabeth addressed him by rank, "and I strongly advise you to follow orders."

John pushed wearily off his elbows where he'd been reclining on the soft grass and struggled to his feet. "C'mon, Biggles, let's go get McTeeth and his trusty Oral Hygiene 101 and be back before chow time. You know how you'd hate to miss another sumptuous meal here."

'_Biggles,' _Waldon thought. _'These strangers seem to have an excessive number of names. It must get confusing at times.'_

Elizabeth had it on the tip of her tongue to order John to rest and make Rodney fly the jumper on his own but knowing full well her military commander would balk at such an idea she wisely kept her own counsel.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Graham McKeith's heart had taken to trying to leap from his chest at the news that he'd been summoned to the gate room to see Rodney McKay. It wasn't as if the physicist was in any way his superior, but McKay didn't seem to realise that. As far as the egotistical chief scientist was concerned, next to Elizabeth Weir he was in charge of everything not under military jurisdiction and that included the medical sciences.

It was with heavy steps but a totally cranked-up curiosity that he wound his way through the quiet corridors of this amazing city. He wasn't a veteran of gate travel, the journey to Atlantis having been his one and only foray through the naquadah donut, and he couldn't begin to imagine what McKay wanted with him. His imagination ran a little ahead of him as he pictured a toothless McKay demanding that he be restored to his former dental glory in spite of all his molars being scattered on some foreign soil.

With a snort at his own wit, Graham found an impatiently pacing McKay and a shop-soiled and definitely weary Colonel Sheppard waiting for him. _Perhaps the Colonel is the one in need of my expertise, _Graham pondered. Certainly if what he'd heard about Colonel Trouble Magnet and the flagship team's off-world adventures were true it wouldn't surprise him.

"_Finally!_ What did you do, stop to admire the scenery?" McKay spluttered.

Sheppard cast Graham a sympathetic look of understanding as McKay continued to almost fizz with suppressed energy. He took time to inspect this new arrival, not yet having been in need of a visit to the dentist's chair. The man was about the same height as McKay but of slimmer poundage and definitely a _lot_ more hair. McKeith wore it almost to his collar in light brown curls and with a heavy fringe which seemed to make his eyes small and nervy.

Graham allowed the inspection and returned one of his own, openly appraising the colonel but when the man greeted him with a ready smile Graham was able to see that the colonel's dental display was intact and in its documented healthy condition.

"I wasn't aware that this was an emergency, Dr McKay. Are you in imminent danger of death by mouth ulcer?" Graham chalked up an invisible score as he saw Sheppard's enthusiastic and appreciative grin headed his way. _Oh no, there was definitely nothing wrong with __**those**__ pearly-whites._

"Dr McTee…er McKeith, you'll eventually get used to McKay and the fact that he only has two speeds…_'now'_ and '_what kept you_?'," Sheppard murmured, hitching one hip on the edge of a console, garnering an annoyed look from his team-mate as he flaunted the fact that Atlantis allowed him to rest against her whilst it would wail a siren of protest if anyone other than her favourite child dared so much as to breathe over her equipment.

"Yes, yes, all very entertaining, but there are people dying whilst we stand here jawing!"

Graham looked askance at the spluttering scientist in front of him and drank in what he'd just said…people were dying and they'd asked for _him? _His eyebrows threatened a disappearing act into his luxuriant fringe at the idea.

"Way to go, McKay. Scare the man half to death, why don't you? When he says people are dying, Doc, he doesn't actually mean they're out there keeling over. What he's trying to get across with his usual lack of tact is that we've met some people in need of your professional expertise."

John had fully intended to let McKay do all the talking since it was he who had landed the orthodontist in this mess but seeing that the man was making a spectacular failure of just _getting there_, John felt the need to intervene before he was old and stooped, _again_.

The colonel's words slowly sank in to Graham's brain. They'd met people who needed _him_ but these people were obviously not here in Atlantis and he was going to have to go to them.

"My dental surgery isn't exactly a mobile unit, Colonel. Wouldn't it be easier to bring the patient…patients…to me?"

"Unless you can borrow Carson's voodoo dolls, dried chicken bones and 'Incantations for Dummies' I suspect most of the people we saw are beyond a few fillings. What you're going to do is protect the future generations," Rodney grinned, attempting to start afresh with the dentist who was proving as skittish as Miko. He was positively bouncing on his toes with enthusiasm for his own idea.

'_And there go the eyebrows again_,' John noted. At this rate McTeeth would need Botox to fill the frown lines rapidly maturing on his forehead, something that seemed to be a common complaint with those who came into contact with McKay.

"Let's take a walk to your surgery, Doc. We'll explain as we go." He threw an encouraging arm around McKeith's shoulders, leaving Rodney to tag along behind.

To say that McKeith had been reluctant was a gross understatement but he'd never before attempted a King Canute-style repression of the McKay tide that he was in danger of drowning in. He'd listened to the man's half-baked idea of bringing some toothpaste, brushes, floss and mouth wash as well as some simple posters advocating rinse and spit and when he'd turned a questioning gaze on the soldier, Sheppard had merely shrugged as if to say _welcome to_ _**my**_ _world_.

And so, with barely a chance to catch his breath, Graham found himself in one of the rear seats, about to get his second dose of wormhole travel and his inaugural flight in a jumper. The fact that his knuckles were gleaming white and his teeth were clenched so hard he'd be in need of his own ministrations wasn't lost on the pilot or his seasoned companion.

"Relax. There's absolutely nothing to this. You won't feel a thing and these babies have inertial dampeners so you won't even know you're flying," McKay smirked at him, although in his mind's eye he could remember something close to that being levied at Gaul and Abrams some time ago and that had turned into an episode Rodney was often haunted by in his quiet moments.

"I'll know I'm flying when I look up and see black out there," Graham gestured to the front view screen which presently showed the jumper bay. "And should you be flying, anyway? I thought the colonel was the pilot of these _babies._"

Rodney cast a quick glance at Sheppard's smirking face. The soldier was sprawled in an almost boneless heap in the co-pilot's chair, eyes gently closed in restful repose, having graciously _permitted _Rodney to fly them there and back.

"There're plenty of us who can fly the jumpers, not just the Colonel. After all, the number of times he gets into scrapes and it's left to me to drag his scrawny ass home"

"Hey! Firstly, you get into as many, if not more, scrapes than me, and secondly, I do _not_ have a scrawny ass and I don't want to know that you've been thinking about it!" John was suddenly more awake than he had been, the need to defend his reputation a strong incentive.

McKay had the good grace to blush furiously at the hinted slur to his masculinity. After all, he knew Sheppard was a good looking man who was the centre of a great many sexual fantasies amongst more than just the female members of the expedition, but _he_ wasn't one of those fantasists.

"Relax, Sheppard, I prefer my colonels with a few more curves. Your virtue is safe, although considering the number of Kirk-esque conquests you've notched up out here I doubt if you've any virtue worth fighting for."

"Does Caldwell know you lust after his body, Rodney?"

Sheppard thought he was going to have to administer first aid as McKay turned puce choking on saliva that was determined to detour to his lungs. When the coughing fit had subsided McKay gave him a very jaundiced look before choosing to ignore the comment.

"So, what are we waiting for?" he cleared his throat noisily. "As you're so often telling me, time's marching on."

"My assistant, Jessie Heath," McKeith murmured. "If I'm expected to work in primitive conditions the least you can expect me to bring with me is someone who knows one end of a cumine scaler from the other."

McKay was on the point of making a suitably smart comment but the words dried on his lips as a gentle brogue interrupted his thought processes and he turned to look at the speaker.

"I do apologise, Colonel, Doctors. I wasn't certain how much I needed to pack for this wee adventure and had to keep taking things out of my backpack again and again."

Rodney would ordinarily have been unable to resist the urge to make a sarcastic comment about the tendency for women to pack everything including the kitchen sink but the young woman before him reduced his knees to water and his brain to mush. Average height, slim, collar length blonde hair tending to flick outwards in the latest trend and warm brown eyes that he felt he could get lost in and Rodney McKay was dumbstruck. He scrambled out of the pilot's seat, extending his hand to help Jessie with her backpack and failed completely to see the knowing smirk on Sheppard's face.

"First time off world _can_ be a bit tricky, but I'm sure you got it right," McKay heard himself say and was he _gushing?_

"McKay…McKay…Rodney, let the girl's hand go or we'll never actually _get_ off world, unless you want me to fly?" Rodney felt strong fingers prise his own fingers from the cool grasp of the young Irish woman who'd captivated him so and he looked up into the smirking eyes of his team leader.

The banter helped McKeith to relax and it was with some surprise that he realised they were soon in the gate room and heading for the event horizon. He closed his eyes and listened to McKay addressing Flight Control like a seasoned pilot, and allowed some of the tension to seep from him. The next time he opened them he gazed out into deep space.

"Wasn't so bad, huh?" Sheppard huffed quietly at them and Graham had to nod that indeed it was positively pleasant in comparison to the alternative of bone-chilling foot travel from gate to gate.

Jessie grinned in barely suppressed enthusiasm at the experience and Rodney McKay's eyes rolled in exasperation as he saw the colonel and dental assistant almost physically _bond_ there and then over the love of aviation.

"That was amazing, Colonel. And you get to travel like that all the time? Sure, maybe I'll be asking to come with you more often."

John grinned appreciatively and nodded. "I think we could probably come up with one or two other scenarios where we'd need your help on missions. Whaddya think, McKay?"

Rodney would have been only too ready and willing to think up some of those scenarios but he'd seen the way the woman was drinking in the colonel's good looks and knew it as a lost cause to try to win her from him. Some women were shallow enough to prefer looks over intelligence and he couldn't understand that.

"Well, I could always entice Ronan to knock out your teeth," he muttered ungraciously.

McKeith sat back and listened to the joking between the others, knowing full well the marrow-melting effect his young assistant had on most heterosexual men. Her charms weren't wasted on him, either. He just hadn't made a move yet, but time was on their side.

Perhaps this would be an enjoyable adventure, after all.

They met up again in the meeting hall, Graham McKeith's face glowing from the exertion of the walk from jumper to town amidst the oppressive heat of the day, even though by the time they'd arrived the suns were starting to slide comfortably lower in the sky.

John had watched in quiet amusement as Rodney gallantly took Jessie's backpack from her grip, something for which she was very grateful, leaving her hands free to remove her jacket and fan her face.

He had allowed Rodney to take point walking closely to the girl and as he watched their six he had to admit that it was far from a chore to be walking behind Jessie Heath and her pert little behind. Their standard issue uniforms were figure-hugging in enough right places to show off to best effect a pair of nicely rounded butt cheeks.

Elizabeth, Teyla and Ronan greeted them from the cooler interior, glasses of refreshment in their hands.

"Oh that's right. Don't worry about me having a hypoglycaemic attack or dying of heat stroke and dehydration. You just look after yourselves and take things easy," McKay hurled at them, slightly hurt that they were seemingly so refreshed and relaxed whilst he felt as if he'd been trapped in a sauna with some maniac lathering the water onto the coals by the bucket-full.

"Relax, Rodney. There are plenty of refreshments set aside for you." Elizabeth noticed the new arrivals for the first time, the dentist having been behind the blustering scientist. "Hello Graham, thanks for agreeing to come."

"Elizabeth," Graham murmured quietly, taking his expedition leader's slim hand in his as he smiled at her, quite clearly smitten, something Elizabeth seemed unaware of. To Rodney's consternation the hand-holding seemed to go on for an excessively long time.

He scowled openly at the show of excessive friendliness between his boss and McKeith. It didn't sit well with him that this scrawny, mop-headed dentist '_and who in their right mind wanted to earn a living by swimming in halitosis and scraping tartar from teeth, anyway?'_ was almost salivating over Elizabeth's hand and she was letting him. He headed for the table of refreshments, clearly indicating to Elizabeth that he wasn't amused.

McKeith remembered his manners eventually. "I'm not sure if you've met my assistant, Jessie Heath." He brought the younger woman forward and expedition leader and dental assistant shook hands cordially.

They moved off in Rodney's wake, chatting quietly about who knew what women chose to chat about at these times. '_Probably discussing the latest in cosmetics,'_ Graham mused to himself.

Sheppard scooped the abandoned dentist along and pointed him towards the impressive array of food laid out. Most of it was locally harvested fruit and vegetables with one or two plates of some form of cold meet and John's own stomach geared up for a duet with McKay's.

As they caught up on eating, Elizabeth filled them in on how the negotiations had progressed and it soon became clear that her presence had scored a winning goal for the away team as the final tally of what they'd be taking home was considerably more than any of them had dared to hope for at the start.

"Okay, just so that I don't go offering something we haven't agreed on, what exactly _are_ we giving them?" John queried, swallowing quickly to avoid spraying food debris.

"We've checked out their farming techniques and although their yield is impressive, we think we can enhance it further with some agricultural know-how and Teyla's people have some crops these people aren't familiar with, so that'll give them a new produce. Some of their tools and equipment are in need of repair so if Radek and his team can pay a visit I'm sure they can work some magic. And let's not forget medicine and whatever Graham can offer them, too. I haven't yet mentioned Carson but if it was necessary or appropriate I'm sure he'd be happy to check these people over."

John nodded in agreement, pleased to learn that there had been no request or mention of trading for weapons, or even of fire-arms training. The last thing he wanted to do was to alter how these people lived, and if simple farming wasn't what rocked _his_ boat, this wasn't about him.

"So, can we go home now?" He knew it sounded like a whine and the sardonic lift of Elizabeth's right eyebrow told him she had heard it.

"Well, we certainly can't rush Dr McKeith's assessment, now can we? Think of this as some down time, John. Lorne's back at…home…so everything's covered there and you and your team could certainly do with a few days of R'n'R. I know _I_ certainly could."

Elizabeth's final salvo made John feel like a heel. Since their arrival in this seriously messed-up galaxy a couple of years ago it seemed there had been one crisis after another and Elizabeth had had to withstand a threat from the SGC to install military control over the expedition. It was rare that she got off-world when it didn't involve negotiations, sometimes for the lives of her people, and this idyll could be so very good for her.

It wasn't that long ago, either, that she'd been infected with the nanites from their run-in with the Replicators and a peaceful mission off Atlantis was just what the doctor might have ordered to really set her back on her feet.

He sighed as he gave her a resigned smile. "Okay, a couple of days would be nice, but no more. Any longer than that and I can't promise to keep Ronan and Rodney from killing each other."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Many thanks to all who have responded with reviews. They make it worthwhile to continue posting. We're nearly finished with the flashbacks and action is just around the corner.

_Chapter five_

The following day stretched out lazily, the visitors having been encouraged to rest and sunbathe rather than lending a hand in the ongoing harvest. Rodney being Rodney didn't need to be told twice but when he was presented with one or two farm tools that were working at less than maximum efficiency he just had to meddle. They'd decided to hold off on sending for Zelenka until they were sure their new trade partners had no ulterior motives so in the absence of the engineer Rodney declared himself the most competent at actually effecting any worthwhile repairs. John hovered at McKay's side for a while, just to ensure that none of the equipment was Ancient and likely to blow up or activate, but when he saw that the scientist was happily just tinkering he left him to it.

Ronan and he took turns at being on guard as unobtrusively as possible but there was no way he was dropping the watch completely. Teyla and Elizabeth spent some quality time with the local women, murmuring complimentary noises over their homespun goods and handcrafts, all the while cementing a good relationship with them.

All of which, for some reason he couldn't define, gave John an icy feeling in his gut.

He caught up with the dental team and leaned quietly against the doorway of the small house McKeith was using for his field surgery, just watching. The man had a quiet way with him and had already won over the slightly skittish natives, albeit with the help of Teyla at first. She had volunteered to sit on a stool and allow the dentist to demonstrate how he examined the mouth, using a torch Jessie held as close as possible to Teyla's mouth and a small, angled, hand-held mirror. There had been some giggles as the reflected light had bounced around the walls before centring on Teyla's mouth but soon those watching had relaxed, seeing that no harm had befallen the young woman.

Now, when John checked the street, there was a queue forming and he reckoned McKeith could have retired a rich man had this been his private practice.

"Everything okay, Doc?" he called.

Graham looked up in surprise, not expecting Colonel Sheppard in person to be keeping tabs on him. He smiled and nodded, waving a momentarily free hand in dismissal and Sheppard nodded in return, exchanging open smiles with Jessie before stepping outside again. Everything seemed idyllic and pastoral but he couldn't shake that feeling of gloom.

'_Maybe I'm getting old and cynical,'_ he mentally chided himself, returning to where Ronan and McKay were seated in the shade.

"Hey, guys. You okay?"

Rodney looked up, startled, from the bowels of some tool and assessed his team leader.

"We're fine, Colonel Worrywart. Why don't you relax, for Heaven's sake? The only danger we're in around here is an imminent heart attack from your stealth mode approaches."

You could take the man out of Special Ops but you couldn't take the training out of the man and John didn't know any other way of moving.

"I heard him," Ronan growled, and John fired a grin at him. The statement would be true, of course, but there was no way Ronan was going to allow McKay to think that John had surprised them with his silent approach.

Elizabeth and Teyla joined them and sank gratefully onto the soft seats in the shade. John's eyebrow rose in silent question.

"We are quite well, Colonel," Teyla reassured him. "However, Waldon and some of the others did seem exceptionally attentive. They seemed particularly intrigued by our teeth and asked many times how we had so many."

Rodney snorted as if to say '_I told you so' _and Ronan didn't need to be told further. As it was his turn to take a stroll, as he and Sheppard had taken to calling their guard-keeping, he rose to his feet.

"I'll just check on the Doc," he rumbled as he passed John, who flapped a weary hand in gratitude.

McKay looked up in some puzzlement at the snippets of conversation he had actually listened to.

"Is there something actually wrong here or are we, and by that I mean you, just jumping at shadows?"

"Nothing's wrong, McKay," John sighed as he ran his hand through his already dishevelled hair, making it stand even more upright and causing Elizabeth and Teyla to chuckle gently. "I just think this is all too…too…"

At an unaccustomed loss for words he waved his hand about to encompass their surroundings, trying to convey by gesture what his brain failed to supply the words for.

"Ah yes, too...too…that would be such a threat in comparison to, say, life-sucking, freaking vampire Wraith or murderous splinter groups of Genii, not to mention Replicators who stick their hands _into_ your foreheads and steal your thoughts. I don't know about you and your need to be throwing yourself at every dangerous situation this galaxy has stored up for us but I'll take too-too any day!" Rodney snarked before delivering a disgusted look at his friend and delving back into the innards of his current project.

John nodded but was far from placated. "Well, if it turns out I was right I'll try to be gentle when I say I told you so."

00oo00

The evening meal had clearly been told it had to surpass the previous evening's efforts and had pushed out all the stops. The wine flowed freely and plate after laden plate was set before the visitors as the merriment continued.

John caught Waldon looking at him at one stage and was startled at the fleeting scowl he imagined he saw there. He did a double take but when he looked again Waldon had a wine glass raised in a toast, inviting John to reciprocate. Not to show up his manners he raised his own glass and made the silent gesture back at their host, making a great show of swallowing when in actual fact he merely sipped at the slightly too sweet mixture.

All around him his team were relaxed and enjoying the meal, but his stomach was in a knot of apprehension and he made only a token attempt to eat. Even McKay had tucked in with relish, having procured Teyla's services as taster to ensure none of the foodstuff presented contained citrus. Ronan had learned hard in his seven years as a runner that you took food when it was presented in case it was some time until your next meal so McKay, who was seated next to him, was in danger of losing his own plateful if he loitered too long. He noted with a smile that Rodney had managed to get Jessie seated directly across from him so that if he couldn't actually sit beside her he could glance her way.

Elizabeth noticed John's reserved stance and cast a questioning look at him. He was on the point of trying to provide quiet reassurance rather than spooking her unnecessarily when an unwelcome voice interrupted them.

"Is our food not rich enough for your tastes, Colonel Sheppard?"

John twisted in his seat to observe the red-faced man standing at his shoulder, and how had he _not_ heard the man creeping up behind him? He was slipping if this oily little man had managed that, even in the noisy atmosphere of the banquet.

The Lapostan was seething, for some reason unknown to John.

"It's fine, Waldo. Excellent, in fact, as you can see by my team's enthusiastic response, but I'm just not that hungry. I think I got too much sun today. But hey, don't worry about me. Everyone else is clearly a fan so I can't see a problem with the trade agreement."

John wanted to tell his team to slow down, not to be eating everything set before them, but what proof did he have that there was something wrong? Only that there was ice in his gut that had nothing whatsoever to do with any chilled drink.

Everyone around him was laughing loudly, the noise starting to grate on his nerves and if it hadn't been for his brain insisting that something wasn't right he'd have left the meeting hall for some tranquillity in the evening air.

"Perhaps more wine would settle your delicate constitution, Colonel," McKay roared across the table, clearly highly amused at his own sparkling wit.

John made a 'cool it' motion with the hand away from Waldon but declined to pick up the goblet with the heady liquid. If anything, he was certain the wine was more likely to be the source of his disquiet than the food.

"I am most insulted, Colonel Sheppard. If our peoples are to trade with each other we must share in this most basic sign of trust around the banquet table. My people have been very generous with the feast prepared in your honour and I must insist that you partake."

One thing certain to raise the hackles on John Sheppard's neck was someone insisting he act in a way that screamed _wrong_ to him. He pushed his chair back and rose to his full height, intimidatingly taller than the protesting villager invading his personal space.

"You insist? And if I don't?"

Their weapons had been stacked on a table at the doorway although John had been reluctant to comply with that request from the outset, and now he was seriously pissed.

Any further debate was interrupted by McKay's sudden lurch to his feet, his hand clutching at his head as he turned startled, glazed eyes to his team leader.

"Crap! McKay, what's wrong?" John ripped his arm free from where Waldon had grabbed it in a surprisingly firm grip and made to move towards the scientist.

The move was pre-empted by Ronan doing a face plant into the plate of food set in front of him, out cold. Teyla, Elizabeth and the others followed rapidly, their heads sinking almost gracefully onto the table in a full-out faint and John turned his startled gaze towards McKay as the man lost his battle for consciousness and collapsed back onto the bench behind him, his heavy head bouncing off Ronan's shoulder.

"What the hell? What have you done to them?" he snarled at the man next to him, belatedly realising that the small man was now backed up by a group of six much larger men who were blocking John's path towards his weapons.

"I really wish you had eaten and drunk of our banquet, Colonel. It would have been so much easier on you in the long run. And so much less painful."

John's last thoughts as he found himself knocked to the ground and dragged outside were, '_call me a cynic but these milk runs are turning out to be worse than facing the Wraith.'_

TBC

Feedback would be most appreciated, even if you think it's rubbish, only be gentle!t


	7. Chapter 7

Many thanks to all who have left reviews. They refresh the soul.

_Chapter six_

_**Present time**_

Memory started filtering back to Rodney's aching head as he sat on the step of the meeting hall, allowing the fresh air to revive him further. There had been eating and drinking, lots of eating and drinking, and then he'd felt very hot, his head about to split open under sudden intense pressure. He recalled staggering upright and looking in alarm to Sheppard who seemed to be all wavy lines and too-bright lights and then his team started lying down on the job. He had thought, vaguely, that Sheppard would rip them a new one for getting drunk but he'd been drunk a time or two and had never felt like that before. The obvious reason had slowly filtered his toxin-riddled brain that they'd been drugged.

Ronan staggered past and dropped to his haunches, strong fingers massaging his skull and pulling at his braids as if he could wrench the fog from his head.

'_Perhaps the pain helps,'_ Rodney surmised but wasn't in any hurry to find out.

They needed to get back onto their feet and try to determine where the others where but both men were realistic enough to know that starting out before they were ready would merely bring forward their own return to the floor and Rodney wasn't sure he'd be ready for anything other than moaning this side of Christmas.

Both were dehydrated from their recent vomiting and needed to find a source of safe, uncontaminated water.

The silence around them was unsettling to say the least. Where previously this had been a thriving rural community with people bustling about and small animals darting around underfoot, it suddenly was doing its best to emulate a ghost town. Rodney wouldn't have been surprised to see a dust devil blowing down the main street and hear the odd saloon door creak eerily in the silence. It was almost a cliché of every Western he'd seen, where the hero had been left lying in the dirt, accompanied only by the lone bad guy who'd stayed behind to gloat. Except that there wasn't even that lone bad guy to be found.

He breathed in sharply as an awful thought raised its head.

"You don't suppose there's been a culling? Would explain where everyone is…" he gasped, watching Ronan's expression. The Satedan was the most Wraith-experienced amongst them with the exception, perhaps, of Teyla.

The dreadlocked head shook negatively. "Too many people to have been scooped completely unless a hive ship was around. The darts can only take so many. And if they'd landed to feed we'd see the husks."

'_Totally charming mental image, thank you!'_ Rodney thought, but was slightly reassured that his missing team mates hadn't become Wraith fodder. Well, at least on the planet; there was no certainty that they weren't snugly wrapped in a Wraith cocoon just waiting to be the starter in some freaky eat-all-you-can orgy.

That just left working out what _had_ happened to them. Another unwelcome thought intruded into his brain.

"What if the darts had gated in and out?"

Ronan nodded in silent agreement of that possibility which only made Rodney feel worse.

Ronan staggered to the town's central well and raised the pail, drinking hugely of the refreshing water. Rodney agreed with the plan and shuffled carefully forward, ears peeled for sounds of movement. He really needed to know where Sheppard, Mr Optimistic, was because right now he'd allow the man to gloat as loudly (well, okay, maybe _quietly_) as he wanted about having warned them something was wrong in the Land of Utopia.

The water was as sweet and refreshing as a mountain stream and did wonders for his tender throat. He looked about, wishing he'd Sheppard's sunglasses to prevent having to squint. Then again, he just wished he had Sheppard by his side and he'd have squinted for all his worth.

Ronan poured some of the water over his head, shaking the dreads out like some great shaggy dog and Rodney was interrupted violently from his musings as he was showered.

"Oh, yes, thank you _so_ much. Just what I wanted, outdoor facilities."

Ronan was fast recovering and merely grinned toothily at the annoyed scientist, the smile somewhat feral in McKay's opinion. Perhaps Ronan had heard him calling him a lump of lard, and what with the twig-hair thing, aggravating the man right now would be as wise as poking a rattler with a stick.

"Let's spilt up." Ronan pointed in one direction, indicating he'd go that way, leaving McKay to choose his own route.

"Is that wise? What if whatever has happened to the others happens to us?"

"Then we'll have found them."

Rodney might have come up with a biting retort about the logic of idiots but he had to admit that trying to find their missing people was a priority and they'd cover more ground separately. He fished through his pockets and was surprised to find his ear piece. Plugging it in gingerly, mindful of his still tender head, he tapped it to activate.

"Sheppard...Elizabeth...anyone hearing me?"

The silence was deafening and with a heartfelt sigh he nodded to Ronan as they headed out in separate directions.

He felt totally foolish opening doors and calling his peoples' names, as if they'd merely be hiding from him. If they were able at all to move outside they'd clearly have done so already.

He'd been searching for about ten minutes, slowly making his way again towards the house they'd stayed in when his radio crackled.

"McKay…I've found Sheppard."

Rodney's heart seemed to seize in his chest and his blood turned to ice when Ronan didn't add _'and he's okay.'_

"W-where are you?"

Ronan gave him the directions in a terse voice that told Rodney what he was going to find would redefine 'not good' and he wasn't at all surprised to find that his feet had grown wings. What had taken ten minutes of slow, cautious searching through the town suddenly took mere minutes before he was approaching Ronan's crouching bulk. Rodney swallowed through a throat suddenly as dry as the Sahara as he took in the form of a downed man. Ronan looked up and his expression was thunderous.

"He's alive…just. He needs Beckett, now!"

"Dear God," Rodney murmured, the words a prayer to a deity he didn't often call upon, as he took in the form of his friend.

Sheppard's hair was thick with dried blood making it stick up even more haphazardly, his face cut and battered. Both eyes were bruised and starting to swell and his lips torn and bloodied. If they hadn't known who they were looking for, apart from the shock of unruly hair and the uniform this could have been a stranger.

Kneeling in the dirt beside Sheppard the two men did as efficient a triage as they could, cautious to not roll the injured man for fear of occult spinal trauma. They came up with a probable fractured collar bone, multiple bruises across the torso and abdomen and some sponginess around the ribs that more than likely indicated fractures there, too. All throughout their examination and muttered oaths at what they found the man beneath their hands remained pale and silent, his breath slow and shallow.

"We need to get him back to Atlantis," Rodney spoke, his anger not even remotely under control.

This hadn't been a simple assault. Sheppard had proven time and again that he was an efficient street brawler who could more than hold his own in hand to hand fighting. This had been a systematic beating to remove the man as a threat, but a threat to what remained unanswered.

"We'll need something to carry him on. Shouldn't move him, otherwise."

As economical as ever with his words, Ronan started rooting around for something suitable to use as a stretcher and came back with a door he'd merely ripped from its hinges.

Rodney smiled sadly in appreciation of his strong friend's ruthlessness but the situation didn't allow for anything more than that. As carefully as possible they positioned Sheppard onto the board, Rodney shirking out of his jacket to place it beneath the battered head. Part of him was torn in trying to find more of their people but Sheppard's pale face and shallow breathing was shouting Beckett's name in capital letters.

Rodney looked dubiously at the heavy door and the dead-weight burden upon it.

"Em, I'm not sure we'll manage to...you know...carry him. Maybe if I went back for the jumper, we could get him home quicker."

"We stick together and I'm not leaving him alone." There was no arguing with Ronan when he got that tone.

"No, no, not leaving him, certainly not leaving him." Rodney sighed as he realised he really didn't want to be out there on his own anyway, even if he was heading for a cloaked jumper.

Ronan assessed the scientist. "You okay for flying?"

"Yes, well, unless you've been hiding your piloting talents under that hairdo along with your supply of knives we've no option, have we?" McKay couldn't contain the snarky comment. He realised somewhat belatedly that none of this was Ronan's fault and tried in his own ham-fisted way to utter an apology. "I'm good…well, not exactly good. I may zig and zag a little but if Sheppard were awake he'd tell you that's my normal flying pattern anyway. Let's just get this over with."

TBC

A/N: all reviews most welcome.


	8. Chapter 8

Once again, many thanks to all who have taken time to post a review. The encouragement is greatly appreciated.

_Chapter seven_

Teyla rarely drank to excess, always having been aware that enemies would wait for the soft and unsuspecting to fall foul of drink and overcome those unprepared. So it came as some considerable surprise for her to open her eyes and find the room tilting alarmingly.

Her head felt as if it had been split in two and she most definitely had what she'd heard Dr Beckett often refer to as photophobia. She squinted her eyes shut and raised an arm that felt as if it was made of lead to shield her eyes before attempting, slowly, to open them again.

A soft moan somewhere to her right had her turning her head in that direction, much too quickly for her slowly recovering balance and she fought long and hard to quell her sick stomach. She sat up gingerly, rested her elbows on her bent knees and her head into her cupped hands and breathed slowly in and out through open lips, determined not to make a mess until such times as she could stagger outside. She hadn't yet determined how many were in this room and no-one else needed to endure the stench produced by her rebelling stomach.

Once she'd gained some control over the desire to heave she again turned her head to locate the source of the quiet moaning. Two others shared her current quarters and by the uniforms she could readily identify Elizabeth and the dentist's assistant. She looked around but couldn't recognise their location. The room they were in wasn't even furnished and they currently lay on the dirt floor which was warm enough to prevent chills but definitely far from comfortable.

She crawled slowly towards Elizabeth who was breathing out in soft moans but showing no signs of waking.

Teyla reached out a small hand, disconcerted to note a tremor in it, and touched the woman gently on her own moist hand.

"Elizabeth, take slow, deep breaths and open your eyes slowly. You are alright but will have a headache and sick stomach. Try not to move suddenly and it will get better quickly."

The moaning stopped and Elizabeth opened her eyes much too quickly, slamming them shut just as abruptly, her moans re-enforced. Teyla moved across her as much as her own dodgy balance would allow, creating a shadow for Elizabeth's photophobia and she tried again at Teyla's cajoling. This time when she opened her eyes in a squint she managed to keep them open. She regarded the young woman bending over her and tried for a plaintive smile.

"W-what happened? I feel awful," she gasped, clutching at her pounding head.

"I am not certain what has happened. It would seem we lost consciousness because we are no longer in the meeting hall and I have yet to locate Colonel Sheppard and the others. Rest for a few moments more whilst I check on Miss Heath. Your stomach is likely to resent sudden movement."

Elizabeth went to sit upright to check on their surroundings but the sudden movement confirmed Teyla's suspicions and was too much for her stomach. She lost the fight to keep the contents contained, reaching away from Teyla and emptying her stomach on the dry earth.

Teyla wrinkled her nose in sympathy but had to move away for fear that this would encourage her own nausea. She inched her way towards Jessie who had still to show any signs of returning consciousness. Until she did there was little Teyla could do for her.

She took the time to study their quarters.

The room was already excessively hot and the stench of vomit was oppressive in the heat. She looked around in what she imagined would be a vain attempt to find something to cover the mess with and was surprised to find some scattered material, similar to what grains and pulses might be transported in, lying in a corner.

Rising unsteadily to her feet she managed the short distance and retrieved one of the sacks, handing it over to the mortified woman to drape over her embarrassment.

She had to try the door. Fresh air was becoming something of an essential.

The door wasn't the most robust she'd ever encountered and she imagined Ronan easily crashing through it, or a well-placed kick from the colonel's booted foot levelling it to the ground, but it was strong enough to keep them from opening it without some form of tool. For now she wasn't sufficiently recovered to manage to do more than rattle it. It wasn't air-tight and some fresh air managed to seep in around the jamb but not enough to reach the occupants unless they were pressed against it.

Searching around she found a small window high on one wall but it was beyond her current reach. It would be too small to clamber through but if it could be broken it might allow air to circulate.

"Teyla? Are you hurt?"

"I am unharmed, Elizabeth. We need to attempt to break the window high on the wall to allow some air in. I have no idea where we are or why we have been separated from the others, or even if they are merely in another part of this building, but it would appear we have little choice but to await developments. Do you think you can get up?" She knelt in the dirt to offer assistance.

With a strong arm encouraging her, Elizabeth climbed upright slowly, breathing through her open mouth. Jessie chose that moment to groan loudly and the two women moved slowly towards her.

Jessie's eyes flew open in panic as her stomach repelled its last meal and she rolled onto her side as she heaved, coughing painfully as bile scorched her throat. Teyla held her shoulders in sympathy but Elizabeth's own recent sickness was threatening a rematch and she could do little by way of helping, standing back with her hand clenched firmly over nose and mouth.

"I'm sorry for being such a wimp," Elizabeth apologised, once Jessie's heaving was over. "I guess I'm not as used to being drugged and kidnapped as you are."

Teyla acknowledged her words with a wry twist of her lips. "It has become a little repetitive after the fourth or fifth time."

They talked over how best to reach the window. It was beyond the reach of even the taller build of Elizabeth so in the end she and Jessie offered to cup their hands and boost Teyla until she was able to reach the glass.

Teyla removed a boot and with a couple of enthusiastic smacks had the brittle glass succumbing to the force, shattering noisily but allowing in a refreshing hint of fresh air. For good measure, whilst up there, Teyla called the names of her missing companions, straining to hear a response.

"Can anyone hear us? Please help us!"

She was a woman of strong character and it didn't sit well with her to ask for help like this but she was also realistic enough to know that they needed help if they were to get out of their prison.

Elizabeth and Jessie weren't used to this sort of strenuous activity, the heaviest thing they were used to lifting being a coffee mug or the occasional dental tool, and their arms started to quiver with strain. Without a chance to warn their colleague they collapsed in a breath-stealing heap, Teyla's fall slightly cushioned by the others.

"Sorry, sorry, we couldn't hold you any longer. Are you alright?" Elizabeth checked Teyla for new injuries.

Teyla had had the easier landing and smiled at the flustered woman. "I am fine, Elizabeth. Our objective was achieved but I am afraid I was unable to determine if the others are nearby. We will still have to wait to find out what is intended for us."

"Do you think this is Wraith-related?"

Elizabeth had been pondering their situation and her fertile imagination was only too happy to supply worst case scenarios. Maybe she was spending too much time in Rodney's company.

"It is always possible that the people of Laposta are Wraith worshippers. If that is the case, we may indeed soon be handed over as a form of reward. Understandably, those planets who have given themselves over to Wraith worshipping don't actually tell others of their allegiance."

Jessie's eyes were as large as saucers as she took in the quiet words of the other two women.

"Are you telling me we're going to die?" she almost shrieked.

Teyla wrapped a comforting arm around the frightened young woman and tried to instil as much confidence into her as she could spare.

"We are most certainly _not_ going to die. For all we know, right now Colonel Sheppard and Ronan are working out where we've been taken and are planning our rescue. We need merely be patient. The colonel does not leave his people behind."

TBC

Reviews, as always, are most welcome and appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

Many thanks to all who have left comments; they are like a balm to the soul.

Leaving the ladies for a while again and meanwhile heading for Atlantis...

_Chapter eight_

"Atlantis, this is jumper one, inbound with a medical emergency. Have Beckett meet us in the jumper bay with his team of trained monkeys."

"Acknowledged, Dr McKay. What is the nature of your emergency and where is Colonel Sheppard?" Chuck, the Canadian gate technician, enquired.

"Sorry to be so unoriginal but the colonel _is_ the emergency. He's out cold from a beating and hasn't regained consciousness since we found him an hour ago. Now, can we continue this discussion when we're all on the same side of the wormhole?"

"Affirmative, Doctor McKay, the shield is lowered. Come on home."

The call went out for the Chief Medical Officer and Carson Beckett made his way rapidly to the jumper bay, his team and a gurney in tow. These calls were getting to be a bad habit and by now they had the manoeuvre down to a slick routine. A gurney was set up in the corner of the infirmary at all times, ready for just such a call, the emergency box readily stocked with everything they might need to save a life. And too often of late that had been exactly what they _had_ had to do. Although the transporters got them from A to B in the blink of an eye, more often than not their patient required immediate resuscitation before he or she could be moved.

Carson had known only a handful of the expedition members before embarking on this great adventure. Elizabeth and Rodney were probably the ones he'd known the longest, but over the couple of years they'd been out here he'd made firm friendships with those he came in regular contact with, and one of the strongest was with their military commander.

The doctor had known many military leaders in his time at the SGC and he could safely say without fear of contradiction that John Sheppard was unlike any other commander he'd ever encountered. The man's relaxed, almost lazy style and sardonic wit wasn't to everyone's taste, chiefly the top brass of said military, but out here where the rules needed to be re-written every day Sheppard was the breath of fresh air the expedition needed.

He often recalled with a feeling of dread that fateful day in Antarctica when he'd fired the drone that had very nearly killed General O'Neill and the then unknown Major Sheppard. And he squirmed with embarrassment when he thought of how smug he'd sounded when expounding the ancient gene theory to the major only to have the man turn the tables on him by sitting in the chair and turning out to have the strongest gene available to the fledgling expedition.

Carson's memories skipped again to the day they'd been standing at the foot of the ramp in the gate room under Cheyenne Mountain, waiting for the expedition to begin. He'd been fretting over a piece of medical equipment when their then leader, Colonel Marshal Sumner, had more or less ordered Sgt Bates to shoot him if he didn't get things packed and moving. He'd had practically no time to get to know Sumner but he knew without a second's hesitation that he'd never have developed the same easy camaraderie with him that he had with John Sheppard. He still had a few disturbing dreams when he recalled how close they'd come to losing Sheppard to the retrovirus and the man had been more forgiving than Carson deserved. He imagined that if that had been Sumner he'd either have just shot him outright or slapped him in the brig with no chance for parole.

The jumper had already settled and the rear ramp was lowered by the time they arrived and Carson bustled forward, all reminiscing put on hold. He nodded tersely at Rodney and Ronan, taking in their dishevelled but apparently uninjured appearance, before turning his attention to his patient.

Sheppard lay on the door they'd carried him on, they having been reluctant to move him to something more comfortable. A foil blanket covered him, tucked in carefully around his arms and legs and an oxygen mask covering his battered face.

"What the bloody hell happened to him?"

Carson was distressed by the condition his friends often returned in and whilst he had to accept that the Wraith were inhuman and couldn't be expected to play by the rules, this sort of injury seemed more consistent with an attack by other _humans_, something that made the doctor sick to his stomach.

"We were separated and drugged and when we found him he was like this."

Carson re-appraised the other two men. "You were drugged, ye say? How long were ye out? How do ye feel, now?"

Rodney and Ronan exchanged glances. Rodney cleared his throat and tried to quell the acid trying to reach his mouth.

"All night, but _we're_ fine, it's Sheppard we're worried about. We have to assume he was out the same length of time as us, but until he can actually tell us, we've no way of knowing. Do you think he's unconscious because he was beaten as well as drugged? I mean, he's been unconscious an awfully long time, Carson."

"Aye, well, I can't tell ye until I've got blood samples from all of ye to compare for toxin levels. Let's get ye all to the infirmary. You two grab the next cab and let me get the colonel settled. I'll see ye shortly, and do _not_ have me to come looking for ye!"

He knew that was an empty threat. Sometimes it _was_ difficult to get the team to attend for post-mission checks but not when one of them was a patient. Then, they were almost permanently underfoot.

Major Evan Lorne had been in the gate room when jumper one reported in and his heart sank at the information coming over the radio.

He'd come over on the _Daedalus_ after the first major battle with the Wraith and had been as awed as a green recruit at the tales of derring-do his new commander had indulged in. He'd quickly formed a great deal of respect for the colonel, in spite of having had a pre-set opinion of him from the scuttlebutt he'd heard around the SGC. Sheppard had an almost unparalleled ability to rile the bigwigs and it was impossible _not_ to have formed an unfavourable opinion of the man before meeting him. Added to that was the fact that Colonel Steven Caldwell had little good to say about the man and had treated Lorne to his opinion quite readily any time Atlantis and Sheppard came up in the same conversation.

Now, many months and almost as many adventures later, he'd be the first to defend his commanding officer all the way, right up to, and including the top brass. Sheppard was one of those leaders who did just that…lead. Not for him the privilege of rank where he sat on his backside and sent the troops out to the front line. Sheppard was the furthest forward at that front line and always the last one home, too. He may not have been a Marine, and there was enough rivalry between the sections of the armed forces for the fact that their commander was a 'zoomie' to sometimes be an issue with new arrivals, but Sheppard stuck firmly to the maxim that you didn't leave people behind and it had earned him the respect of every soldier in the expedition.

With a heavy tread Lorne made his way to the infirmary. McKay had mentioned that Sheppard was the one injured but there had been seven members of the away team and as Sheppard's XO he was in temporary charge of Atlantis when Dr Weir or the colonel were off-world, and needed to determine if they were all home.

The scene inside the infirmary reminded him of the days when he'd had time to relax and watch ER on the TV in the Officers' Mess back on Earth. There was an almost beautiful choreography to the movements of the emergency team and he took a moment to appreciate that they had some of the best medical personnel in two galaxies with them.

Probably just as well considering how busy they kept them.

Although the situation obviously warranted a full-out panic, there was none to be seen on the faces of the medical team as they swung into action to save yet another life, every person knowing their stuff and their allocated task and the colonel's vitals being called out loudly and clearly for Beckett to acknowledge or order something to correct an aberrant reading. The figure on the gurney was being stripped of his clothing, a blanket draped across his lower body to offer some privacy from prying eyes, but otherwise was unmoving.

Evan sighed as he took in the all-too-frequent signs of Sheppard being injured. Clearly there was no way he was going to get any answers from his CO for some time.

Glancing around to the area where waiting team members were usually shoved out of the way he spotted McKay and Ronan and moved across to them.

"Dr McKay, Specialist Dex, are you alright?"

Rodney tore his gaze away from the gurney that could barely be seen through the gap in the privacy curtains, the motionless body on it surrounded by bustling figures.

"Fine, we're fine." Rodney was so worried he'd gone beyond his normal hypochondria.

"And the others?" Lorne waited for a response or, at best, a sign of where the other away team members were. His heart clenched at the idea that they were beyond medical help and the reason why no-one was bustling over _them_. "Doctor…where _are_ the others?"

Rodney seemed lost in his thoughts and Ronan rumbled a reply. "We got drugged and separated. When we found Sheppard he was in a bad way so we brought him back. Give me a pilot and a team and I'll go back and find the others."

Evan took in the determined Satedan and nodded in understanding. The whereabouts and condition of their missing people had had to take second place until such times as they could get Sheppard to medical help, and then the search and rescue would kick in. It may have been a hard decision to leave the planet without finding their people but there had been only so much they could have done, and he knew these men well enough to know they both shared a strong respect and friendship with the downed man.

"Okay, let the medics check you out and when you're ready to head back I'll have a team waiting. What will you need?"

Rodney seemed to check back into the conversation as he clicked his fingers in the way he did when his brain was trying to out-run his mouth.

"They might have gated off-world with the others, or at the very least, to another hemisphere. The place was like a ghost town. Get Zelenka and whatever little bag of tricks he needs to read the last gate addresses dialled from the planet in case we need to start a search. And let's just hope they weren't taken by dart."

Lorne nodded and moved off to make the arrangements but not before grabbing the arm of a passing nurse.

"What can you tell me about Colonel Sheppard?"

Betty Wilson was a seasoned ER nurse who knew better than to give out premature or falsely hopeful information so she shook her head.

"Too soon for that, Major. He's breathing on his own and that's as far as we can go for now. We've scans to run, assessments to make, and maybe _then_ we can tell you what you need to know. All I _will_ tell you is that he took one heck of a beating."

Lorne moved off and Betty took the opportunity to make a move on the other two.

"Doctor, Mr Dex, Dr Biro will give you the once over. We need some of your lovely blood for analysis, if you'll just follow me."

"Biro?" Rodney squeaked. "Isn't she the pathologist? Why do we get the pathologist? Are we dying?" His hypochondria wasn't on holiday, after all.

"Now, Doctor, would you prefer I pull one of the others away from caring for the colonel to see to you?"

Rodney strained to see back to where his friend was fighting for his life, and swallowed painfully.

"No, no, Biro's fine. Just tell her to leave her bone cutters and saws behind, huh, and tell her not to be too anxious to see me?"

TBC

Comments, as always, most gratefully received.


	10. Chapter 10

Time to catch up on what's happening with the ladies. Once again, many thanks to all who have posted a review. It is much appreciated.

_Chapter nine_

"We demand to know what's going on, Waldon. We've been drugged, kidnapped and separated from the others and you just stand there, grinning like an idiot!"

Teyla cast an admiring glance towards Elizabeth. She'd witnessed many an occasion when the woman's negotiating skills had got them out of an otherwise sticky situation but very seldom did she lose her cool and resort to insults. That was usually Rodney's strong suit followed by a snort of amusement from the colonel. However, she had to agree that the situation was beyond frustrating.

A short time ago their detention had been interrupted by the arrival of the perspiring shape of their former host. His companions were sturdy, weathered men with arms as thick as Teyla's thighs and they didn't look as if they'd come to apologise any time soon for a misunderstanding.

Teyla normally wouldn't interfere when Dr Weir was in 'the chair' as the colonel referred to it, but she could see that the situation might deteriorate rapidly if they didn't work together.

"Waldon, have we offended you in some way? If so, we apologise. We are new to your ways and may have inadvertently caused you offence, for which we apologise. May we see the others?"

Waldon stepped around the three women, so strikingly different in their physical characteristics but as beautiful as each other. He'd noted, also, that they had spunk, something they hadn't bargained for when they'd first planned their abduction, but a refreshing extra. He cupped the chin of the young blonde woman who had remained silent and turned her head from side to side as if inspecting her for flaws. His blunt fingers pushed at her and her lips were peeled back to show her teeth. It reminded Elizabeth of horse traders.

Jessie whimpered in alarm and her eyes got impossibly larger. She tried to back away from the intrusion but Waldon's free hand grabbed her arm and held her fast.

Teyla's instinct was to break the arm of the man who was touching Jessie in such an offensive manner but she fought it to remain as calm as possible, hoping the explanation was forthcoming soon. Until they knew the fate of their missing men they couldn't risk angering these people.

Elizabeth clenched her teeth at the actions of the smarmy little man and thought back to John's gut instincts. Once again he'd been right and she just hoped she got the chance to allow him the self-satisfied smug expression he would don like his favourite tee-shirt.

"So perfect in every way," Elizabeth heard their former host gush.

Waldon had let go of Jessie's chin and moved towards Teyla, inspecting her from head to toe in a way that left little to the imagination. These people had obviously moved on from the simple farmers they'd portrayed and she got the uncomfortable feeling they were being assessed for some sordid type of slave trade.

"Perfect," Waldon repeated once again before approaching Elizabeth.

She held her arm up, outstretched hand stopping him from coming any closer. "I think that's far enough, Mister! Up to now we've been remarkably patient but right now I think you should know our people will be looking for us and when they find us you'll wish you'd never heard of us. Now, I demand to see Colonel Sheppard."

"Such spirit will be a wonderful addition to our bloodline, don't you agree, gentlemen? We couldn't have found better had we looked for a long time." Waldon grinned at his burly companions and Elizabeth's blood ran cold.

"Oh, come _on!_ You can't seriously be telling me you've kidnapped us for breeding purposes!"

Jessie whimpered and her knees folded under her as she collapsed onto the hard earth. Teyla crossed to crouch beside her in support, her eyebrow raised in astonishment at the words.

"We need only your co-operation or, at the very least, your bodies for harvesting purposes, if you fail to work with us," Waldon gloated, then his attitude sobered. "Something in our land is gradually bringing a sickness to my people and our race is slowly dying off. Those elders you met were the last few of my generation. Many lose their eyesight as they grow older, others develop various illnesses that rob them of their senses, some have a blackness that grows on their lower limbs, and many have sickly babies which do not survive infancy, or the mothers die in childbirth," he offered by way of exonerating his actions.

Elizabeth heard his impassioned statement with an open mouth and would have interrupted but he was in full flow.

"We have friends who have offered what little science they understand to allow us to...gather DNA, I believe it is called...I know little of science...to breed a stronger, healthier race of people. We need to introduce new DNA in order to improve our genetic make-up, or so these experts tell me. I don't pretend to understand it. You will be well treated if you co-operate but I cannot guarantee the same consideration if you prove difficult. What you should realise, however, is that you will become part of _our_ community, now. Your former life is over."

Gone was the odiously fawning man who had greeted them so recently. In his place was as ruthless a leader as any Genii general. Elizabeth found it hard to reconcile the two aspects of the man's character. She was also facing a fanatic, she realised, one on the same scale as those misguided people of Hoff who had sacrificed their own people in an attempt to overcome the Wraith threat. Fanatics were always the worst to deal with as they were beyond reason.

Still, for the sake of the others, and who knew how many women in the future, she had to try.

"We have doctors...researchers...scientists. We will help in any way we can to research this sickness you mention but you _have_ to release us in order for me to arrange this. You saw how skilled Dr McKeith was and your people were in no danger from him, just as you would be perfectly safe with our other experts. You don't have to do it like this!"

Waldon seemed to consider it for some time and the three women hardly dared breathe.

A determined look settled on his face as Waldon shook his head.

"Your offer is generous but I can't accept that you don't have ulterior motivation in bringing it forward. What's to stop you launching an attack on my people as soon as you are released? In your position I might be of the same mind. No, we stick with the original plan. Make yourselves as comfortable as possible; you will be here for a while. I will see to getting you some food."

The women edged back to the wall, shock evident on their faces. Never in their wildest dreams had they come up with this particular scenario. In the early days of their hostility with the Genii they had known there was a bounty on the heads of the flagship team but recent events had seen them working in partnership with their former enemy and so kidnapping or ransom had been placed on the 'least likely to happen' shelf. And certainly they'd _never_ considered anyone being kidnapped for genetic purposes, although with the ancient gene being a highly desirable commodity it was perhaps only a matter of time before someone took it into their heads to add _that_ to the wanted posters.

"Wait!" Elizabeth called out as she saw the men preparing to leave. "You still haven't told us about the others. Are they here, too?"

"I failed to see how we could safely coerce them into co-operating and they were therefore surplus to requirements and have been dealt with accordingly," Waldon smirked.

"Our people will not leave us. They will find us before too long and when they do..."

Elizabeth's words dried up at the smirking face as Waldon interrupted.

"You've already been missing a full day. We kept you drugged whilst we moved you a second time to cover our tracks. The chances of you being found are practically non-existent. Accept it, Elizabeth. You will be staying with us, with or without your co-operation."

He turned on his heels, leaving three astonished expressions as he left the room.

Elizabeth took in the stunned faces of her companions and tried to swallow her own panic but her overriding emotion was definitely anger. She reckoned, for at least Jessie's shattered nerves, a pep talk was the order of the day.

"We are not some brood mares they can harness to produce superbrats for them. We need some sort of plan. We've no way of knowing what condition the others were left in so it may be some time before a rescue can be effected but we WILL be rescued, of that I have no doubt. In the meantime I suggest we stick to each other like shadows. The colonel would advocate watching each other's backs so that's what we'll do until he can find us."

00oo00

Two hours after wheeling their unconscious patient into the infirmary Carson pulled off his blood-stained gloves and gown and discarded them in a hazardous waste bag. As far as he could see the whole blasted Pegasus galaxy should just be shoved into one of those bags because it was definitely hazardous to one's health to be here.

Looking up, he wasn't surprised at the waiting group of people. Rodney was in a chair, Dex was pacing like a hungry lion and even Radek Zelenka was there, which surprised the doctor for a moment. He hadn't remembered Radek having been off-world. Lorne was resting against the wall, seemingly relaxed, but stood to attention as soon as the exhausted physician joined them.

"Well," he began, holding up a hand to forestall their questions. "He's in better shape than he should be. Fractured left clavicle, that's collar bone to ye, a few cracked ribs on the left side and multiple contusions and abrasions, not to mention a humdinger of a concussion and a serious laceration to his head requiring twelve sutures. He's going tae be sore and stiff for a few days and I'll keep him here as long as I can but knowing the colonel that may require restraints. His tox screening came back barely positive so whatever ye were drugged with, he took scarcely enough to register. Which may account for why he was beaten to a pulp instead of just knocked out with a Mickey Finn."

"Mickey Finn?" Ronan rumbled.

"Sorry, lad, just a colloquialism for drugs. As I said, the colonel disnae appear tae have had enough on board to knock him out so they obviously had tae do it the hard way. It would have been a lot easier on him if he'd just gone along with ye on that."

"So, why's he still unconscious?" McKay whined.

"He's not. That's what I came out tae tell ye. He was awake and vomiting and very, very confused...the concussion...but I've given him something to settle him so he'll be a bit out of it for a while. Confusion makes ye a wee bit restless and he disnae need to be thrashing about with his injuries. He could do with something a bit stronger but we'll only be waking him every so often for neuro checks so it seemed pointless."

"Doc, I really wish you'd waited until we got some intel from the colonel. We need to know what's going on with the others," Lorne muttered.

"It wouldnae have done ye any good. The man's not even sure of his own name at the minute what with the concussion. Maybe tomorrow ye'll get some sense outta him but nae today."

Ronan mumbled deep in his chest making the others think of a grizzly. "We can't wait any longer. I'm going back to the planet to look for the others. McKay, you coming?" He nudged the scientist who stood on a knife-edge of indecision.

Rodney mulled over what he could effectively do either at his friend's bedside _or_ on the planet. If Radek hadn't been available Rodney would have agreed that his best efforts would be in trying to pull the addresses from the DHD, but Radek _was_ there, and although it pained Rodney at times to admit it, his Czech friend was a damned good engineer and would be more than up to the task of pulling the information they needed.

McKay's place was at the side of his injured friend.

"You go. Radek, you get that information or don't come back until you've got it. Ronan, you big ox, you look after him…and yourself…and find them. I don't want to have to tell Sheppard that we've lost any more people."

The two men nodded and moved off with Lorne who was radioing Lt Steele to lead the away team.

Rodney and Carson shared a grim look before moving towards the bed holding their battered friend.

Sheppard was once again surrounded by the standard medical paraphernalia: cardiac monitor, pulse oximeter, blood pressure monitoring, IV stand and infusion pump, with chirps and beeps quietly sounding in the hushed atmosphere of the infirmary.

Taking in the pallor and darkening bruises around his friend's eyes Rodney was reminded of a racoon, what with that shock of unruly hair. But it was still heavily blood-stained from the deep laceration inside the hair line and Sheppard's head was now swathed in a pressure bandage and the pillow stained pink from where the nurses had tried to rinse the worst of the blood from the strands.

Sheppard's left arm was supported in a sling to ease the discomfort of the fractured clavicle and bruises were evident on every portion of the exposed chest and arms. Rodney suspected those bruises continued on down beneath the sheet draped over his friend's abdomen and he surreptitiously checked for the ubiquitous catheter. _Yep, there it was and was that a pinkish tone to the urine?_

"What about internal damage, Carson? He must have put up a hell of a fight so he can't have been easy to take down."

"His kidneys are bruised and I was a wee bit worried about his spleen but he was lucky and there's no sign of haemorrhaging so if we can keep him quiet and resting, with time he'll make a full recovery." The doctor turned to assess his other friend. "Rodney, have ye eaten anything since ye got back?"

"Oh, of course, Carson. There I was, with nothing better to do than worry about A," he held up his hand and counted off the fingers, "an injured friend, B, missing other friends, and C, a recovering constitution from God knows what they drugged us with, so naturally I headed straight to the Mess."

"Aye, I know how single-minded ye can get, Rodney, when it comes to food under normal circumstances. But I'm only saying...the last thing I need is to be scraping your ass off the floor when your blood sugar bottoms out so unless ye want an IV, too, I strongly suggest ye go and eat something and don't come back here until ye do. And it had better be something more than an MRE or a power bar or I'll tie your hide to a bed! Now go on with ye."

Rodney made to stand his ground but Carson's threat of pointy needles was a strong deterrent. His arm was still sore from where Biro had drawn blood and he was sure she'd broken the needle tip off just to give herself something to look for, post mortem.

"Okay, I'm going, but when I get back you can forget about shifting me out of here. I'll be at his bedside until he wakens and nothing you say will change that." With that McKay turned to the man in the bed. "And _you_ can waken up any old time you like, but not until I get back. And remember, you're going to go gently when you tell me you'd told me so!"

Carson watched his friend's stiff shoulders as he stormed out of the infirmary. He checked his sleeping patient once more before moving off to arrange an extra bed to be prepared along side the colonel's. Rodney was a good and loyal friend once he formed a friendship, and he might as well be as comfortable as possible during his vigil.

TBC

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	11. Chapter 11

Once again, many thanks to all who take the time to post a review. They encourage me to keep going.

_Chapter ten_

The flight back through the wormhole to Laposta seemed to take twice as long, something Ronan knew was impossible but it didn't stop it seeming that way. Around him the faces were grim. Lt Steele was an unknown quantity to him having been one of the newest arrivals on the _Daedalus_ and although Ronan had seen quite a few of the marines sparring, this man hadn't been amongst them. He only hoped the man could take care of himself because he certainly wasn't in a mood to baby-sit anyone other than the small Czech engineer.

He was surprised to realise how fond he'd become of the two bickering men when Rodney and Radek had started in on each other. He knew they had brilliant minds and together had saved the city more than once but they were so differing in their manner that it was just fun to watch when things got heated between them. So when McKay had set him as Zelenka's minder he knew better than to fail in his job.

The small craft emerged from the vortex, slurped through the event horizon and entered the lower skies over Laposta. The gate was set on a steep hill allowing aircraft to access it from off-world, but also allowing foot passage to other worlds not in orbit.

The land spread out beneath them gave no hint of anything other than peace and harmony, man at one with nature, except that now they weren't sure where man had gone to. Certainly there was nothing to indicate that another man had been beaten to within an inch of his life and others snatched from relative safety.

"There's the DHD," Ronan pointed and Steele nodded to the pilot to set the craft down as close as possible after it had circled overhead.

Once the ramp was lowered, Zelenka made his way to the DHD whilst Steele left two other marines with him and took the remaining contingent into town. They weren't prepared to take 'no' for an answer. They'd come looking for either their missing people, or the intel as to their whereabouts.

Ronan and McKay had told them they'd found the place like a ghost town so they weren't expecting to find signs of everyday life going on around them as if nothing had happened. The glances the locals gave them were open, curious but definitely _not _suspicious or hostile. The same couldn't be said for the looks the marines gave the locals. This was most certainly not what they'd been led to expect.

Ronan and Steele approached a group of women clearing the detritus from a recently harvested field.

"Where's Waldon?" Ronan demanded, not unreasonably, he felt.

"Waldon? We know of no-one of that name, stranger. Perhaps someone else can be of assistance. You are welcome to our town."

She gave him a smile of friendliness but of the same dental distress he'd come to expect from this place and he growled in barely suppressed anger.

"Don't waste my time. Waldon was here and he took our people. If you don't want me to start bashing heads, just _tell_ me!"

Steele placed a restraining hand on the other man's forearm, telling him tacitly to _cool it._ Ronan wasn't in a mood to cool it and his blaster was in his hand before the other man could stop it.

A shout from one of the other marines who'd continued on towards the town centre drew their attention. Beckoning that they should join him the marine pointed behind him.

They quickened their pace and moved into the centre of the town to be met with a surprise. A lone figure could be seen sitting slumped on the ledge surrounding the well and Steele's gun was in his hand, his men backing him as he cautiously approached.

The dejected figure at the well heard soft scuffs and looked up in alarm, only to have a huge grin of relief break over his pale features.

"Oh, thank God! Where have you people _been? _I've no idea where anyone else is. I thought the colonel was all for not leaving anyone behind?" Graham McKeith was stumbling towards them, his tongue going as fast as his feet and he all but collapsed against Steele as he closed the distance between them. "I kept asking and asking these people but it's like something out of a B movie...they keep insisting they don't know anyone called Waldon or Elizabeth...the colonel...anyone!"

"It's okay, Doc. We've got you now and we'll get some answers." He indicated to Ronan and two of his men to take off and _get those answers or else._ He turned his attention back to the shaking dentist. "There's been a bit of a situation and the colonel was attacked. Can you fill me in?"

The lieutenant was looking at him questioningly, obviously waiting for something. Graham did his best to collect his scattered wits.

"Oh…fill you in…right. Um, I don't know much. We were at a banquet…such food…and then my head started spinning. I thought it was the wine…very heady, you know…so I thought I'd take a breath of fresh air. I got outside but felt queasy and after that I don't remember anything. The next thing I knew I was in some sort of barn and throwing up everything I've ever eaten." He wiped a shaky hand over his mouth as if he could still taste the vomit.

Steele looked around in frustration. It was like one of the old magic tricks with smoke and mirrors...distraction and sleight if hand...one minute their people are there, the next minute gone. He realised McKeith was still talking.

"...and when I staggered out here, it was like some weird science fiction movie. At first there was just no-one here and then they gradually drifted back like extras in a subplot." He realised what the marine had said, something about the colonel having been attacked, and gulped. "Was the colonel…is he…was it something here? A wild animal? A Wraith?" His eyebrows did their own disappearing trick.

Steele placed a steadying hand under the dentist's quivering elbow and edged him back to the ledge at the well, taking care that the man didn't lean back and topple in. It was a wonder he'd managed to sit there on his own without that befalling him already such was the state he was in.

"We're not certain who it was but it definitely wasn't Wraith or an animal. Too many boot-shaped bruises and as far as we know none of the indigenous animals wear size elevens. So," Steele ran a frustrated hand over his cropped hair, "you can't give us anything useful? Can you at least show me where you wakened up? Maybe there'll be some evidence of use."

The two men moved off slowly after Steele had given the orders for a house to house search and constant radio contact.

Ronan wanted nothing better than to knock heads together until they spilled their secrets but the only people he met returned his questions with the same bland friendliness and negative responses as to Waldon's whereabouts. Whatever the conspiracy, everyone had read their script and was following it to the letter. Short of using drugs to loosen their tongues they were getting nowhere fast.

Children skipped about unconcernedly at the presence of the heavily armed strangers and Ronan had to admit that these were _different_ children to those he'd caught messing with his hair. Even the town's people were strangers to him, not that he'd necessarily met _everyone_ before. Still, it was enough to cause him considerable confusion. It was as if these were a different cast of players drafted in to replace those from the first scene.

Steele and McKeith joined them and heads were put together to decide their best strategy.

The elder reluctantly admitting to be town leader agreed to accompany them back to Atlantis, that is, he was _encouraged_ into accompanying them at the prompt of Ronan's blaster. Something was off in this place and he was going to find out what if he had to take this little man apart to do so.

Back at the jumper Steele got through to his temporary command officer.

"I think we should leave men here for a day or so in case Waldon shows up again. They can camp in the jumper and stay cloaked and keep an eye on comings and goings. Something's not right here and I don't think Waldon's gone for good. These people know more than they're letting on."

"Agreed. Okay, come on home and the jumper can stay there. Is the doc okay to make it on foot?" Lorne had been fully briefed and was relieved by that small mercy that he didn't have to tell the colonel of a civilian death.

"Yes, sir, we'll see you shortly. Steele, out."

Two hours after they'd arrived the only intel they'd gathered was the last known addresses from the DHD and lots of denials from the native population.

00oo00

Rodney had been delighted at Carson's thoughtfulness in providing the bed on which he now reclined. He'd spent far too many hours in the past hunched in one of those uncomfortable chairs in the infirmary, waiting for a friend to recover. And wasn't it just like the Ancients to be so damned good at lots of things except for designing an ergonomic chair?

He'd heard the disappointing news from the jumper that they'd found little of use, apart from McTeeth. Well, at least he wasn't injured, but that left the three women alone and vulnerable and Rodney's mind was a fertile source of doom and gloom and worst case scenarios and he just knew this was going very badly.

The mystery of the re-appearance of seemingly new town's people puzzled him and he didn't like things he couldn't solve. His huge brain worried at the situation whilst he waited for signs of recovering senses from the next bed.

A softly suppressed moan alerted him to Sheppard's wakening, again. This would be the third time the man's eyes had tried to open since Rodney had returned to his vigil and as if by magic Carson was at Sheppard's side, gently encouraging his patient to waken properly this time.

It was painful to watch as Sheppard's swollen and blackened lids struggled in a Herculean fashion to open against the residual dried, crusting blood caught around his lashes. Rodney had almost given one of the infirmary nurses cause to hit him when he'd gone on and on about cleaning his friend's eyes when he _couldn't feel the pain _but Carson had re-directed her to the far end of the facility and calmed Rodney enough to explain that John's eyes were too swollen to even carefully remove all of the blood without tearing the delicate tissues. They'd done what they could, for now. The residue would come off in time and with natural tears.

Carson eased the head of the bed into a very gentle incline, not enough to be called upright, but more than total recline, and John seemed to catch on. He shifted minutely in the bed and caught his bottom lip between teeth as his aches announced themselves. That, in itself, caused more discomfort as the torn and tender flesh of his lip protested such rough treatment.

"Come on, Colonel, just stay awake for a short time and I'll give you something more for the pain."

He crowded his patient, very aware of Rodney's hot breath on the back of his neck as they leant over Sheppard.

John finally won the Battle of the Eyes and opened them, only to gasp in shock, his ribs stating clearly that _that_ had been a bad idea.

"What's the matter? Can't you see?" Rodney demanded, concerned at the startled expression on his friend's face.

"Please...tell me...there're two...of you." Sheppard gasped, blinking a few times, encouraging his swollen eyes to focus properly and clear what seemed to be a fog in front of him, until he was sure that the figure bending over him didn't really have two heads, one spluttering in a Canadian accent.

"Aye, lad, that's a nightmare I have, myself," Carson shuddered dramatically, clearly recalling the incident when Cadman and Rodney had shared a body. He'd be a long time dead before he forgot _that _kiss. "So, apart from seeing us as a two-headed monster, how d'ye feel?"

"Like I've got...a jumper sitting...on my head. What happened?" His voice was hesitant and soft, as if speaking any louder would hurt everything.

"I'd like ye tae try and remember that, yourself. You've had a bit of an accident but you'll be mobile in a day or two. In the meantime you've quite a concussion and I need ye tae piece the bits together, _without prompting_." The last was addressed to Rodney who looked wounded.

"Hey! I'm only trying to help!"

"Aye, Rodney, I know, but if the colonel's tae be happy that he remembers and doesn't just know things because he's been told them, he needs tae do this the long way."

"It's not like I _know_ what not to tell him!"

"Exactly my point. You don't know what not tae tell him so don't be telling him anything!"

"Hey…guys…right here." Sheppard went to raise his right hand to grab the bickering friends' attention but even the slightest movement seemed to telegraph right to the fingertips of his immobilised left arm. He gasped involuntarily again and the soft sound brought a screeching halt to McKay and Beckett's spitting and snarling.

"Easy, take it easy, Colonel. Try tae take slow, shallow breaths and ride through this. I'll get ye something for the pain and ye can get some rest."

John opened eyes he hadn't realised he'd slammed shut and squinted at Beckett. "Not yet, Doc...need the pain to help me focus. I need to remember what happened. Was anyone else hurt?"

Carson was about to reassure him as best he could, since they had no idea about the missing women, but Rodney had other ideas.

"We were drugged and Ronan and I had _really_ bad headaches"

"Rodney!" Carson waved a hand in a downward motion, trying to get across that here was the physicist once again giving away that precious information he wanted John to try to recover by himself.

"What? It's not like he's going to _remember_ that since he didn't know it in the first place, is it? I get it, really I do. You need him to remember how he came to resemble a racoon after a road kill but he doesn't know the other stuff, so"

"Just tell me!" Sheppard had got tired of the exchange between the two doctors and his headache was climbing steadily towards stratospheric so if they planned to tell him anything they expected him to remember again they needed to do it soon.

Rodney smirked triumphantly at Carson who rolled his eyes in dramatic resignation. Aiming to keep damage to a minimum the medical doctor perched against Rodney's cot, determined to stay within restraining distance should the need arise.

"So," Rodney began, "McTeeth's on his way back, Ronan and I have probably been poisoned with God only knows what and there's you looking like something my cat would refuse to drag in…"

00oo00

Sheppard had always been an impatient patient. It wasn't that he disliked infirmaries _per se_, it was just that he was low on tolerance when it came to sitting around, waiting. He was well aware that physically he was below par and should take every minute he could to recover some energy but his people were in trouble and it was his responsibility to get them home.

Lorne had visited him as soon as he heard he'd recovered enough to stay awake through a debriefing and although John's own memories of their visit to Laposta were as holey as Swiss cheese he was able to piece together enough of their misadventure to satisfy Beckett that he hadn't been fed the information from McKay.

So that was why McKay found him a few hours after Lorne had gone, teetering on the edge of the cot, long legs dangling over the edge and his right arm straining to hold him from crashing back onto the bed. His IV stand was perched beside him as if it alone could keep him upright.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Colonel?"

Carson's bellow from behind Rodney had him almost leap into the air, startled. He'd been on the verge of asking the same question and had got as far as opening his mouth. To hear the words coming from someone else's lips before he got the chance was totally frustrating. He felt like a child who'd had their favourite toy dangled before them and then snatched away.

"Gotta pee, Doc. '_And hadn't he been SO glad when the catheter had been removed?'_ Can't lie about all day…Liz'beth 'n' Teyla could be in big trouble."

John was struggling to hide the fact that his body seriously wanted to be horizontal again. He reasoned that if he kept his eyes shut and gripped the IV stand firmly he wouldn't see how the room was dipping and twirling like some manic fair ground ride, the resultant nausea threatening to bring up the few sips of water he's so far kept down. As fond as he was of Ferris wheels he wasn't quite ready for a loop-de-loop and so he missed the hand twirling thing Rodney did at his own temple whilst pointing to his team leader.

Carson sighed knowingly before placing a gentle hand on his patient's shoulder, easing him back onto the bed with surprisingly little effort.

"Give yourself a chance, man. There are people doing what they can. Have some faith in your own men, Colonel. You've trained them well and they're good at what they do. You've been injured and ye can't expect your body tae just ignore those injuries even if ye tell it tae. Stay here overnight and if ye haven't had a relapse, _or come tae your senses_, I'll let ye leave for your quarters tomorrow. But I _won't_ be clearing ye for anything more energetic for a day or two so don't go getting your hopes raised."

John didn't pursue the argument at that point because he knew he was no-where near well enough to intimidate Carson into changing his mind, but it was an argument he was determined to win. There was no way he wasn't taking an active role in the search for his people. Carson would have to sedate him to keep him here.

He allowed himself to be wheeled to the bathroom where it took all of Carson's strength to keep him standing and a considerable amount of John's embarrassment to get through _that_ and then he was settled back into his pillows. He tried manfully to stifle the soft moan as his abused body adjusted to the new position. He felt Carson working at his IV, probably adjusting the flow rate, and opened his eyes when his hand was nudged. He quietly accepted the proffered tablets and glass of water without complaint, at least having got the physician to cut back his analgesics.

"Okay, you win this battle but I'll be on my feet tomorrow, with or without your blessing. _I_ need to be looking for them, Carson, not just Lorne and the others. I know they're doing everything possible but unless I'm...involved...I can't...settle..."

John's words slurred off as he spoke and Rodney cast a suspicious look at the smirk playing around Beckett's lips.

"You didn't?" Rodney took in the evidence before him…softly snoring colonel, smirking physician... and came to the right conclusion pretty swiftly. After all, he _was _a genius. "You _did!_ You slipped him knockout drugs. He's gonna be so pissed at you tomorrow!"

"Aye, well, be that as it may, at least he'll be rested. Now, as for ye, Rodney, if I find _ye_ still here when I come back from grabbing a bite to eat I'll be slipping those same drugs into your food and strapping ye to a bed, IN YOUR QUARTERS!"

Carson grinned happily to himself as he took in his friend's retreating figure, completely tuning out the not-so-quiet mutterings about despotic sheepherders who liked to throw their weight around and pick on innocent people who were _only trying to help!_

He spared his sleeping patient one last glance before handing Colonel Sheppard's care into the more than adequate hands of his infirmary staff. Sleep was something maybe _he _would get, this night. He wasn't one hundred percent sure of that, though. After all, he may have stopped Sheppard from leaping from his sick bed to go searching for Elizabeth and the others but that didn't take away the fact that the three women were missing.

He looked momentarily at the syringe he'd pocketed before heading towards Sheppard's bed but he wasn't even remotely tempted to self-medicate with pills. For one thing, his patient would always come first, and secondly he'd once told Rodney he knew about addictions and he'd absolutely _no_ intention of going back there. One sleeping pill would just be the thin end of a very dangerous wedge.

"I'll be on my radio, Carla. The colonel shouldn't give you any trouble but call me if he gets worse…any time."

With a knowing smile Carla watched her boss trudge wearily from the infirmary, counting down mentally until he'd reappear, staying the night on the small, uncomfortable cot in his office, just to be sure.

TBC

Reviews would be most appreciated.


	12. Chapter 12

Once again, many, many thanks to those who have taken time to read and leave feedback. Much appreciated:D

_Chapter eleven_

The jumper returned some time during the late evening and Graham McKeith found himself a patient in the infirmary for the first and hopefully last time. He was shocked at the appearance of the colonel as he was ushered quietly past the sleeping soldier and the nurse accompanying him nodded in understanding at his expression but refrained from speaking until they were out of earshot of Sheppard's bed.

"He's had a thoroughly nasty beating but thankfully nothing he won't recover from. Sadly, the colonel is a frequent visitor with us so let's hope now that you've got a taster of being on the flagship team's away missions you're not going to rack up as many visits, Doctor." Jacqui smiled at his shocked expression as she handed him a pair of scrubs and patted the bed inviting him to settle.

Graham perched gingerly on the mattress after the nurse had allowed him some privacy to change and then suffered in silence as they took what seemed an excessive amount of blood from him, for toxin screening, they claimed.

He'd thought he'd have got a visit from Carson Beckett (professional courtesy of a visit from the CMO) and was a little peeved to be denied. Beckett, it seemed, was fast asleep on a cot in his office and the infirmary staff were loathe to waken him when other doctors were available. He was a little shocked to learn that the small, abrasive woman tending him was the expedition's pathologist.

He tolerated the erection of IV fluids – a single dose to flush out the toxins, he was told – and tried to settle.

After Biro had left, grinning at him in a most disconcerting fashion, and the privacy screens had been pulled back, he was greeted by Major Lorne and subjected to yet more questions, very few of which he could actually answer. He repeated what he'd told Lt Steele and watched as Lorne's expression grew grimmer.

Apart from the addresses Zelenka was currently working on, and who had been joined by McKay, a matter that was being kept from Carson Beckett, they had precious little to go on.

The small, elderly Lapostan was sticking rigidly to the script and so far they'd got nothing worthwhile from him in spite of Ronan's intimidating presence. Whatever the scheme Waldon and his original cast had dreamt up, they'd effectively silenced everyone else.

Biro had got his consent to a medical examination and her results weren't through yet. He'd been a little hesitant and fearful over giving a blood sample but had eventually agreed, not that they expected _that_ to produce any miraculous answers.

Lorne left Graham to his thoughts and he turned his attention to the bed a few spaces away on the opposite side. Sheppard was propped up at a slight incline, affording Graham a reasonably clear view of his battered face. He shuddered at the imagined violence necessary to wreak such havoc on the human body but his mind couldn't comprehend it so he simply studied the man as he slept fitfully.

Eventually he turned away from the colonel as he mulled over what had happened in a relatively short time span. It seemed hard to credit that it was only a few days ago that he'd started out on what might have been a grand adventure when he spoke to the colonel and McKay in the gate room, and look at them all now…Sheppard black and blue, he and the others having been drugged, and the women…he gulped a little as he thought of what might be happening, or have happened to them.

He would deny with his last breath that there was anything improper in his thoughts towards Elizabeth Weir but he had developed both a small crush and a great deal of respect for his charming and intelligent expedition leader.

But, he had to admit, it was not only her he was concerned for, but also Jessie. He felt a great deal of guilt over the fact that he'd asked her to go with him to the planet. If anything happened to her, he'd have a hard time living with himself.

The thought surprised him and as he pondered it, he realised his feelings for Jessie were slightly more than merely professional. Now that he was aware of this he just hoped he'd get the chance to do something about it. Judging by how things had gone on this trip the likelihood was that she'd reject him anyway, probably in favour of some hero-type who'd sweep her off her feet and out of danger.

He chuckled sardonically at his flights of fancy then scolded himself for them. The women were _still_ in danger and this was no time for levity.

The third woman, Teyla, was an unknown quantity to him but he'd heard enough gossip around the place to know she was a formidable warrior and he just hoped that she would be strong enough to look out for the others.

A soft moan and quiet voice dragged his attention back to Sheppard's bed to see one of the nurses soothe the man's forehead with a gentle caress and still his restlessness with calm, murmured words. He didn't think Sheppard had actually wakened but whatever the nurse had said or done seemed enough to settle the man again. She gave Graham a toothy smile as she quietly took her seat again beside the bed, implying by her actions that she anticipated the need to repeat this again, soon. It seemed that being a frequent patient meant the nursing staff was well-prepared when it came to Sheppard's care.

Graham thought it most unlikely that he'd get any sleep, what with not being used to sleeping in any form of open space like the infirmary. He'd never been one for camping nor have any experience of sleeping in a dormitory so he resigned himself to listening to the occasional soft sounds from the opposite bed and to counting the hours away.

Jacqui tapped him gently on the shoulder and he turned, surprised, to see her standing holding a tray containing a glass of water and a steaming mug along with two small tablets.

"This might help you, Doctor. I know you have to be worried about everything that's happened but the problems might seem less after a few hours' sleep."

Graham struggled to an upright position and reached carefully for the mug, breathing in with appreciation the aroma of the warm cocoa as it wafted up into his face.

"Nectar," he gasped, surprised at his own reaction. He wasn't a great advocate of sugary drinks normally but the smell suddenly evoked a great pang of homesickness and also of comfort.

Jacqui smiled knowingly but nudged the glass of water towards him, encouraging him to swallow the sleeping tablets first. He swallowed the proffered tablets with barely a thought and then sipped cautiously at the hot cocoa. It wasn't long before his now emptied mug was being eased from suddenly lax fingers and he felt his pillows being straightened slightly in the way all nurses seemed to have to do, a cool hand teasing his full fringe back from his forehead, and he sighed and gave up the unequal fight with wakefulness. Maybe things would indeed be much better in the morning.

Carla smiled over at her colleague in appreciation of the skill Jacqui had handled her patient with, and then turned her attention back to her own. Sheppard was asleep but it was far from restful in spite of the sedation. She knew the man fretted like no-one else when his people were missing and it would take all of Carson's not inconsiderable skill and tact to keep the colonel from joining the hunt tomorrow, no matter how sore he was.

00oo00

Some time in the middle watches of the night Carson re-appeared from his office, bedraggled and hair rivalling the colonel's, but at least a little more rested. He started in surprise at their latest patient and for a moment was on the point of scolding his people for not waking him when McKeith had been admitted, but he swallowed it down with a great surge of fondness for the staff when he realised that they'd purposefully let him sleep.

He picked up Graham's chart, rifled through the results as they'd filtered in and reassured himself that all was in hand and that he'd have done nothing differently. He moved across to his more troublesome patient and smiled quietly to Carla.

"How's he doing, love?"

She returned Carson's smile then turned her attention back to her sleeping patient.

"Not too bad. He's a bit restless and warm but so far his temp's been within normal limits so hopefully there's nothing brewing. His neuro obs are all recovering, too." She looked again at her boss and grinned. "You _do_ know you've a fight on your hands to keep him on the base, don't you?"

"Aye, lass, and it's a fight I know I scarcely get tae win but maybe he'll be too stiff and sore tae put up much of an argument."

"Yeah, right, and what bubble did you just climb out of if you believe that?"

The caustic voice behind him made him jump.

"Rodney," Carson hissed, taking the man's arm in a firm grip and moving away from the bed to keep the noise down. "What the hell are ye doing here? Ye should be tucked up in bed or did I not make myself clear on that?"

"Ow, skin!" McKay whined as he pulled his arm from the doctor's iron grip. The man must have been a sheep wrestler in his youth. He rubbed tenderly at the abused flesh and glared at the other man. "What sort of Hippocratic Oath did you actually take? Is there a separate version for Highland Sheepherders? Did it even cover '_never do harm to anyone'_?"

"I'll forget it completely if ye don't get out of here and REST!"

"Okay, okay, keep your voice down to a dull roar or _you'll_ be the one responsible for waking Rip Van Winkle and the others."

"They're fast asleep like anyone with half a brain actually functioning. Now why don't ye toddle off to your room, count Zed PMs or recite Pi one hundred times, or whatever it takes tae actually get yourself over tae sleep and ye can catch up on the gossip in the morning."

Carson did his utmost to physically walk Rodney towards the door but McKay's greater bulk rooted him to the spot.

"Just let me check on Sheppard and then I'll go. I'm beat, actually, so I don't think I'll need to count anything to get over. Radek and I have been over those addresses we pulled and it's going to take time to get anything useful from them. I wanted to try accessing some of the addresses now but Zelenka was practically comatose and Lorne wasn't prepared to launch search parties in the middle of the night, so here I am, seemingly the only one in any way concerned that our women are prisoners..."

"Rodney, stop it!" Carson had taken his friend physically by the shoulders and frog-marched him to the bed he'd used earlier. "It seems the only way I'm going to be sure you're asleep is if ye sleep here but if ye waken the colonel there'll be sharp needles and a proctogram in your immediate future. Do I make myself clear?"

Rodney had the good grace to gulp at the threat but accepted the olive branch in the form of a bed graciously. Carson allowed him a quick visit to the bedside of his team leader, just to reassure himself that Sheppard hadn't been stolen away by the Grim Reaper, and then steered the exhausted man to the spare bed.

Rodney didn't even bother changing into scrubs but merely removed his boots and collapsed face down, fully clothed, onto the blankets, snuffling into the soft pillows with a barely contained sigh. Something soft fluttered over him and he opened one bleary eye to see Carson settling an extra blanket over him as he muttered fondly, "Daft bugger."

00oo00

"Carson, I'm fine, really. I can't just sit here doing nothing, you know that."

Beckett looked in exasperation at his most infuriating but predictable patient.

"Colonel, you're so far from fine ye've re-written the definition. Do ye really want me tae catalogue your injuries or will ye let common sense have a chance at getting through that thick skull of yours?"

A snort of laughter made him turn his glare from Sheppard who stood at his bedside on shaky legs to the physicist standing beside the wavering soldier.

"You're not helping, Rodney, and ye had nae right tae bring him his uniform."

"Oh come _on! _You had to know this argument was waiting to happen. After all, you were the one to point out that he had a thick skull in spite of the number of people in this galaxy who have tried to stave it in. There's no way he's going to back down. It's all about foolish, macho pride!"

John took a breather from the argument, eased his butt back onto the edge of the mattress and gently fingered the line of stitches in his hair. He was more than grateful at the medical skill that had averted the need to shave his head.

He really did feel lousy but there was no way he was staying in bed for another day whilst the women were missing. If he had to try to over-rule the CMO he would do it, but it would make life so much less hassle if Carson would just accept it. He knew that Carson had the final say in releasing him and throwing his military weight around wouldn't change that so he was hoping he could appeal to Carson's concern for the missing women. The good doctor was very fond of Elizabeth and Teyla.

Beckett could taste the bitterness of defeat as he sighed heavily. He knew his patient too well to believe even for a microsecond that the man would go with anything other than his own plans and short of making it an official medical decree and grounding Sheppard he couldn't do anything about it.

Besides, there was the not inconsiderable matter of their missing women and Carson was as worried about them as everyone else, and Sheppard was the best tactician they had. If anyone could come up with a way to find and rescue their people it was this definitely shop-soiled, shaky, pale figure before him.

"Alright, it goes against everything I believe in tae let ye walk, or should I say hobble, out of here but I want ye to at least _try_ not tae injure yourself any further. Don't forget you've broken ribs as well as the collar bone and if they get displaced any further ye could be looking at a pneumothorax. And don't even start me on your internal bruising. Ach, just get out of here before I change my mind and strap ye down and sedate ye. Keep your arm in that sling, it'll help a bit, but I don't suppose there's any point in me putting a fresh bandage back on your daft head!"

John eased to his feet again, smiling guiltily at the concern he could read on Carson's face.

"I'm sorry, Carson, you know that if it wasn't so crucial to get the search under way I'd stay in my quarters but we need every man we've got. The longer Elizabeth and the others are missing the more chance harm will come their way. You _know_ I'm right. And I'll officially nominate Rodney as my very own candy-striper if it makes you feel better. I bet he'll get a kick out of the uniform."

"Hey! No way am I being responsible for your fool head. Find your own candy-striper. And you can dream on if you imagine I'm climbing into a nurse's uniform."

He thought for a moment of how that sounded and had the grace to blush furiously as a nurse walked by and glared at him.

"In your dreams, McKay," she shot at him causing all but Rodney to snicker.

Carson grinned despite his reservations and waved them away with a suddenly serious expression on his mobile face. If he was a gambling man he'd place good money on the colonel being his patient again in the not too distant future. He must find out if anyone was running a betting pool...

He turned to a more receptive quarter.

"Hello Graham. How are ye feeling today?"

McKeith had sat silently through the arguments and was still looking thoughtfully at the now closed infirmary doors.

"Is it always like that with him?"

"Aye, the man's too hard on himself. He'll practically drive himself tae exhaustion before he'll admit tae it, and in spite of Rodney's very loud protestations tae the contrary, he'll be at Sheppard's side all the way until they get home. Now, what about ye? Feel ready tae get out of here?"

"I've a bit of a dull headache but nothing bad. I guess I'm _fine_, too," he grinned, pleased to see the smile he'd brought to the otherwise glum expression on Beckett's face.

"Aye, I knew whatever afflicted Sheppard's team had tae be infectious. You're going tae be as impossible as the others now that ye've been exposed tae it. Go on with ye, get out of here and let me know if your headache gets any worse. The toxin seems to have left your body so apart from ye drinking plenty of clear fluids tae help flush your system I don't need to keep ye."

Graham suddenly sobered. "Do you think they're okay?"

Carson didn't need him to spell it out; he knew exactly who they were all thinking about. His sigh was heavy and heartfelt.

"I hope tae God they are, but if anyone can find them it's the colonel and Rodney."

TBC

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	13. Chapter 13

Many thanks, as always, to all who have left a review, and thanks, too, to those readers who have very kindly added my little tale to their story alerts. How very flattering.

_Chapter twelve_

The heat of the day was long gone but had left behind a haze over the room. They could see dust particles idly drifting and settling as they sat in a huddle. Their confinement in the small room with only the one window and the pervading stench of old vomit made for a very uncomfortable billet for the three women.

Their captors had eventually brought them bottles of water and some meagre fare and, most embarrassingly, a bucket for their other needs. None of the women had yet to use it.

Elizabeth and Teyla had talked for a long time after Waldon had left them alone, thinking of escape strategies and eventually, reluctantly dismissing them after much deliberation.

Jessie had sat with them but had nothing to contribute to their plans. All of this was terrifying to her and she jumped like a spooked cat at every sudden noise. She'd often heard of stories of off-world missions and had romanticised them until she really, really wanted to be on one, and now all she pined for was the sterile safety of her own little space on Atlantis. Never again would she want to step out of its embracing arms.

"We must keep faith that the colonel and the others are well, Elizabeth. Otherwise we will give in to despair and these people will have won."

Teyla's small brown hand rested on Elizabeth's sleeve and the older woman clutched at it for comfort and reassurance.

"I know, and if there's anyone who continues to defy the odds it's John Sheppard but Waldon seemed pretty certain they'd taken care of that issue. You heard him yourself…they'd been dealt with accordingly. I hardly think that meant that they'd had a group discussion and had simply been invited to leave."

Jessie lowered her head onto her cupped hands, failing to contain the wail of despair she'd felt building within her and the sound spurred the other two women towards her, folding her into their combined embrace.

"It's alright, Jessie, we'll get out of this. Don't heed what I say…Teyla knows me well enough to know I have to say out loud what I'm thinking but that's just to get it clear in my mind. I have no doubt," and Elizabeth reached for the girl's chin and raised it to make eye contact, "I have NO doubt that our people will find us and bring us home. We just have to remain strong."

Jessie sniffed miserably as she tried to hold back the tears but this sudden show of comfort tipped her over the edge and great gulping sobs shook her slender shoulders.

"I'm sorry for being such a cry-baby, Dr Weir. I wish I was as strong and brave as you both are being but I just want to go home. I don't want to be having babies to strangers or have my DNA stolen from me. This isn't what I signed up for!"

Elizabeth sighed as she thought back several years to her speech from the ramp in SGC headquarters deep beneath the mountain in Colorado. Jessie hadn't been one of the original expedition members but she was sure the girl would have been briefed on the perils of the Pegasus galaxy before embarking on her journey. Still, very little of what any of them had encountered in this wild and often hostile place had been what they'd expected or even imagined.

She struggled to find the right words when really she couldn't think of much to comfort herself.

Teyla, ever the voice of calm, took the younger woman by the shoulders and lowered her head in preparation for the traditional touching. It was the first time the young Irish woman had encountered the Athosian greeting, so expressive of much more than just 'hello' or 'thank you' and she looked a little mystified until Elizabeth indicated what was expected of her. She lowered her own head to Teyla's and felt the warmth and strength in the hands that gripped her shoulders.

"We have life and strength and must never lose hope. We _will_ get out of here and home."

Jessie couldn't see how, but she'd already shown herself to be too much of a pessimist so for now she kept her disbelief to herself.

00oo00

Sheppard wasn't really an idiot in spite of repeated telling so by Rodney McKay. If he'd had his choice he'd have escaped the restrictive walls of the infirmary and retired to his own quarters to lick his wounds but his people were dependent upon his tactical perspicacity to get them home, and the fact that it was women made him all the more determined to act.

He had no worries that Teyla was more than a match for any man who would attempt to force himself on her in an even fight but he worried for her anyway, and who was to say that it _**would **_be an even fight if it came to that? She was his team member and friend and although he felt responsible for the safety of every member of the expedition, Teyla and Ronan held a special reserve in his heart because they were in Atlantis at his express invitation.

Elizabeth was an entirely different category. He had little doubt that she was a skilled diplomat and negotiator; her record before Atlantis spoke for itself and the very fact that she had been chosen by the president to lead the civilian aspect of the mission gave her the highest possible references but something told Sheppard their missing people weren't sitting around a negotiating table debating what Atlantis had to offer in return for its womenfolk. There was no way in hell he was going to quietly acquiesce to Carson's demands that he stay home and let others do the looking.

As they slowly made their way through the quiet corridors he struggled to put a face to the third female hostage. His Swiss cheese brain wasn't at its best right now and he scrunched his face as he tried to picture the missing woman.

"You in pain, Sheppard, or have you just trod on something unmentionable?" McKay had noticed his facial gymnastics.

John raised a poor relation of his normal cocky grin and Rodney wasn't remotely impressed.

"What am I asking? Of course you're in pain but would you admit it? Oh sure, just as soon as you'd confess to believing in Father Christmas and the tooth fairy."

John stopped suddenly in his tracks and Rodney was several feet ahead of him before he realised. He whirled back, instantly concerned. "What? What's wrong? Should I get Carson?"

"You telling me Father Christmas doesn't exist, Rodney? I already knew about the tooth fairy after that time I lost my front teeth at camp and she didn't come visit."

Sheppard's expression was priceless, the look of hopeful innocence completely fooling McKay...for all of three seconds.

Both men snorted quietly as they moved on again, the moment of lightheartedness appreciated as a distraction from their grim thoughts.

John had contemplated wasting time in visiting their 'guest' in the Wraith holding cell but as Ronan had failed to get anywhere with him John figured it was time they couldn't afford.

They reached the jumper bay to find their colleagues waiting for them.

Ronan looked as fresh as ever, no-one imagining that he'd searched for as long as possible the previous evening and then grilled that little Lapostan worm and had had precious little sleep.

Sergeant Moorecroft was present to pilot the jumper, a concession Sheppard was grudgingly willing to accept because his vision was far from the regulation 20:20 required for flight. He was having enough trouble just _seeing anything_ out of his swollen eyelids never mind trying to actually fly the jumper.

Several groups of marines stood around, scuffing their toes against the floor in obvious impatience to get the mission underway. Their first glance at their battered CO turned into double-takes as they scanned him from head to toe, trying to a man to hide the stunned expression on their faces. Scuttlebutt around the base had told them he was off his feet after an incident off-world but the truth was painful to behold.

Radek Zelenka came scuttling into the jumper bay, his hair following behind him in a fluffy cloud and McKay scowled at him for no better reason than he just wanted to and it made him feel better. Radek pushed his glasses further up his nose and muttered Czech oaths under his breath about megalomaniac astrophysicists all the while scurrying to find a seat on what would be a crowded flight.

Evan Lorne was there, too, to see them off. He took a careful look at his CO and winced at the man's injuries.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go take a look for you, Colonel? I'm sure the doc would prefer if you stayed close to home."

John straightened his spine and sucked in any signs of discomfort in front of his men.

"Don't you start clucking like Beckett, too. I'm fine, besides, with Rodney and Ronan to hold me up if I fall over what more do I need?"

"A body brace and an appointment with Heightmeyer?" Rodney muttered, not quite as softly as he might have.

Sheppard grinned nastily at him and slapped his shoulder with as much strength as he could muster, which wasn't much, really, and if he held on for a little longer than usual, neither man commented.

"Come on, time's a-wasting. Let's get this bird in the air and start banging heads for answers. Lorne, you have the city. Don't go breaking it. I'll want it back just as soon as our people are all okay."­­­­­­

"I'll do my best, sir, and good hunting."

John regarded the small engineer who'd already settled onto one of the rear benches. "Okay, Dr Z, I'm hoping since you blagged a ride that you've managed to come up with the goods?"

He'd heard on the grapevine that Zelenka and McKay had worked on retrieving as many gate addresses as possible from the planet and now it was down to good old fashioned leg work, and if _his_ legs were a little shaky that was his own business.

Zelenka had done a double-take when he'd seen the colonel at the jumper in his current state but he also knew the soldier well enough by now to not really be surprised at his insistence in being in the thick of things. And if the truth be told, if Sheppard hadn't been there to lead the search Zelenka would have been shocked. The man didn't know the meaning of stepping aside.

"Yes, Colonel, narrowed to 20 possible addresses and hopefully none of these will lead us to catastrophe and one to success. Maybe send Rodney through as MALP, no?"

Sheppard grinned at the Czech as he heard the expected spluttering from McKay.

"Good idea, Doc. We've had MALPs on a stick, why not MALPs on foot? You up for it, McKay?"

"Oh ha-ha! Insult the man who's been toiling away most of the night to find the answers." He managed completely to ignore Radek pointing at his own chest. "Let's just skip the Vaudeville routine and get on with it, huh? After all, as you've already said, Colonel, time's a-wasting and Elizabeth and Teyla aren't going to get found by standing around insulting me!"

Sheppard settled into the co-pilot's seat and pondered the DHD. The talk of sending a MALP was just humour to lighten the mood as they'd no way of knowing if any or all of the addresses were safe on the other side and would therefore have to proceed by jumper. Rationalising that the Lapostans hadn't achieved flight technology they had to assume that none of the gates would be in space but there was no way of being sure that they didn't have allies with space travel technology, and wouldn't it just put such a dampener on the day to step through the gate and find yourself vaporised!

There was no logical way to work through the addresses other than go with the top of the list and work down. They divided the list between themselves and two other teams and dialled the first address and headed out.

TBC

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	14. Chapter 14

Chapter thirteen

_Chapter thirteen_

Teyla had been more than surprised to discover that she hadn't been completely stripped of all weapons. She recalled leaving her TAC vest and hand gun off when they'd sat down to the banquet – was it two days ago...she'd lost track of time?- and their captors must have assumed she carried no concealed weaponry. After all, why would they expect a woman, a brood mare, to be armed as a warrior?

So it was with a grin she brandished her sharp knife for the others to see. Elizabeth grinned back at her and Jessie raised a half-hearted smile. Her initial thought was that Teyla meant to use the knife against the men holding them and although she had a great deal of respect for the small Athosian she didn't really see how one woman could overcome several sturdily built men who had greater strength.

Teyla moved quietly to the door imprisoning them and started working at the rusting hinges. They proved somewhat more well-built than hoped for but the wood they were set into was another matter. It showed signs of rot and decay around the hinges although the wood next to the latch was more sturdy. It was frustrating that this doubled her work as it would have been preferable to be able to cut around the one fastening than two but she started working in a quietly determined fashion to hack away at it.

Elizabeth moved to place her ear against the door listening for any indication that their activities had been noticed. Jessie was at a loss as to what she could contribute so sat morosely in a corner watching her companions. Her great adventure wasn't quite what she'd imagined.

00oo00

Rodney commandeered the seat directly behind Sheppard, ostensibly stating it was the science section and directly opposite where Radek was perched, but also because it allowed him to keep a weather eye on his friend, a friend who was drooping with pain and exhaustion the longer the search went on.

He and Radek had tweaked the jumper's settings until they were satisfied, having fed the same information to the other jumpers in the search.

"We can use the jumper to pick up their transmitters," he explained. "Elizabeth and Teyla have the sub-dermal transmitters the same as we have. I don't know if McTeeth's assistant got around to getting one but hopefully they're all together. Maybe we'll get lucky and pick up their signals. It would considerably narrow the search."

"Great," John agreed, thankful for anything that would limit the length of time he had to spend conscious.

He was already regretting having persuaded Carson to let him go, the thought of drugged oblivion being very attractive right now.

"What about the LSDs? Can you jury-rig them to pick up the signals?"

McKay looked affronted.

"It will be much more efficient than a jury-rig, thank you very much. I'll have them as efficient as the jumper's sensors. Just sit there and give your brain, and the rest of you, a rest, would you? You like hell."

"Gee, thanks, Rodney. I always knew there was _some_ reason you were on the team. Now I know what it is...morale officer."

00oo00

Midday came and went and the search was still proving fruitless. McKay sipped from his canteen, scowling at the resultant tepid water, and glanced at the colonel. Sheppard had maintained a reasonable façade for his men but Rodney was getting better with practice at reading the tells on his friend's face and he knew the man was close to exhaustion. The trick would be to get the stupid fool to accept that fact and take some rest before he did a face plant. It had been Rodney's insistence that he needed a meal break that had forced Sheppard into the short recess they were currently enjoying.

McKay felt a gaze on him and looked into the worried brown eyes of the tall Satedan. Ronan seldom showed his feelings but McKay knew he was concerned in the way the man kept close to Sheppard, implying by action that he was supporting him whether his team leader wanted it or not.

John was nobody's fool. He was only too aware of the watchful eye his team mates were casting his way and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. He knew all too well the failings of his battered body but there was no way he was backing down now, no matter how much they muttered and clucked. It was like having a heavily armed Beckett looming over each shoulder.

They'd already ruled out three of the six most likely addresses and he'd be ready for more after a quick break to eat something if only to swallow some Tylenol. The trouble was he couldn't face an MRE and the power bars were threatening a re-appearance so he simply nibbled at one and stuffed the remains into a pocket for later. He rapidly shoved the pills into his mouth and quaffed some water before sealing his canteen and heading back stiffly into the cockpit of the jumper, and if he eased himself into his seat more tenderly than usual that was _his _business.

"Where next, Dr Z?"

"PT6-5XY, Colonel. The database told us little of these people other than they had been friendly in previous contacts. Perhaps they will still be friendly and not poke us with sharp sticks."

"Yeah, I'm all for that."

Sheppard grinned tiredly and Zelenka hoped they found their missing people soon. He didn't want to witness the shouting match that was brewing when the colonel refused to listen to Dr M Rodney McKay, Expert in All Matters including the health of team leaders. But there could be no argument that the colonel was deathly pale and more weary than Radek had ever seen him.

The fourth planet revealed a more advanced culture and Sheppard was glad of their cloaked advantage as they flew over the town next to the gate. There hadn't been any guards standing at the gate and no natives close to it to notice its activation so he hoped their arrival had gone unannounced for now.

"Anything?" John asked for what seemed like the twentieth time.

Rodney and Radek poured over the sensor readings, checking and double checking for any sign of their missing people. On previous attempts the lack of signal was clear in itself but this time they were greeted by static and unable to get a clear indication.

"The signal from the ground is being blocked by too many radio waves," Rodney muttered disgustedly. "We'll need to set down and check it out."

They chose an area of open ground well enough away from the town centre to allow their quiet approach and to leave the cloaked jumper where no-one would accidentally bump into it.

"Okay people, fourth one's the charm. Keep sharp and stay together. You're in the middle like before," this to Rodney and Radek. "Ronan, you have point, Moorecroft, you and I are on six. The rest of you keep your eyes peeled. Move out."

Sheppard squared his shoulders and sucked down his discomfort. He'd had to accept that with his fractured collar bone and the arm in the black sling he couldn't tote the P90 so he carried his side arm and another hidden within the sling. The others, apart from Ronan, were all carrying the field guns and Ronan's blaster was fully charged and ready for bear so all they needed now was to meet some bad guys.

The day was hot and the air dry and sweet-scented. On any other occasion the walk through wavy grasses would have been a pleasant way to spend the afternoon but now it just added to his frustrations. If he could have got away with it he'd have landed in the town square and knocked some heads together, apologising later, but they had to exercise restraint. These people could prove to be as innocent as those on the previous planets and they still needed allies out here in their new stomping ground.

Their approach to the town centre was still some way off but was attracting attention and McKay slowed his steps to wait for Sheppard.

"Did you notice the buildings have a lot more substance to them than back on Laposta? These people are a step up from country bumpkin, wouldn't you say?"

"Just remember it was those country bumpkins that drugged you and stole our people, McKay. It doesn't go to underestimate people."

"Yes, yes, point driven home mercilessly, thank you. All I'm saying is that these people are more in line with the level of the Genii so if the Lapostans were looking for somewhere to bolt to, would they feel welcome here?"

"That's assuming they weren't already in league with a higher culture. They took our women for _something!_"

Rodney preferred not to think what that something might be. He sighed with frustration and resumed scanning their surroundings, the ever-present life signs detector in his hand useless with so many people about.

Sheppard took advantage of Rodney's distraction to eat more Tylenol, an action that wasn't missed by the other man but who wisely said nothing, for the moment.

They were still far enough from the centre of town to be in an area resembling farmed fields and the land workers they'd seen were looking at them with open curiosity.

"We're attracting a bit of attention," Radek murmured. "The natives are getting suspicious."

"They've probably caught sight of Sheppard's face and are gathering their offspring to them in fear of the Bogey Man," Rodney muttered unkindly.

John just sneered at him, the most energy he could muster.

00oo00

PT6-5XY proved to be a bust, as did the fifth planet they tried.

By the time they got back to the jumper Sheppard was dragging one foot past the other and allowing Ronan to walk _very_ close. He refused to accept that he needed to call it a day, not whilst they had daylight and the LSD working to their advantage, but he sorely needed to sit down before he fell down. His shoulder ached like he had one of his _favourite_ iratus bugs digging into it, his ribs demanded that he breathe shallowly and overall he felt lousy, achy and with a humdinger of a headache. He suspected the Tylenol must be a faulty batch because they were about as effective as the water he washed them down with. He'd have to mention that to Carson, _or maybe NOT!_

"You're a fool, Sheppard. What good are you going to be when we catch up with these men and you're a liability?"

Ronan would support this man with his dying breath but even he could see that his friend and leader was ready to collapse.

"Leave it, Ronan. I'll rest when they're back, not before." Sheppard seldom lost his temper with the larger man but he was sore and weary and beyond rational thought right now.

"He's being Colonel Invincible, you might as well try talking him out of breathing, you'd have more luck." McKay produced a power bar and waved it under Sheppard's nose. "Eat, if only to save your stomach from rotting with all those pills you're inhaling."

Sheppard accepted the offering although he wasn't sure his stomach lining wasn't already rotted. The thought of food didn't appeal much right now.

"We're nearly finished. I'll rest on the way home if this one's a bust but there's no way we're not finishing our list. After all, number six's a good number, right?"

The others just snorted and the marines remained silent. They could see their CO was listing badly but marines didn't know any better than to do or die, either, so they'd back him all the way.

The flight through the wormhole took its customary seconds and they arrived as dusk was settling. Almost instantaneously the sensors started to squawk at them and all fatigue was forgotten.

"We've got a signal!" Rodney grinned, turning his wide smile on all within the fall-out zone. Sheppard's own grin was at less than his usual wattage but present nonetheless.

"Set this bird down, we've work to do!"


	15. Chapter 15

Thanks again to all who have left feedback, it is really much appreciated.

A/N: It was brought to my attention that perhaps 'bracken' wasn't quite the right terminology. I don't claim to be a botanist...maybe we should ask Katie Brown once she's finished with Rodneyana Villosa, but for the sake of comprehension and harmony I have re-submitted this chapter and replaced 'bracken' with 'brambles'. Just think thick, cloying vegetation but not necessarily with thorns.

_Chapter fourteen_

"Do you think they'll ever be bringing us more to eat or drink?" Jessie asked, despairingly. "I'm starving but I really need to pee! Maybe if we asked nicely they'd let us visit the...er...facilities."

They all still resolutely refused to use the receptacle in the corner, seeming to jeer at them where it sat quietly waiting. For all they knew this madman might have some use for the DNA gleaned from their bodily waste.

It had been some time since their captors had left them and the day had got colder now, their prison becoming more than a little chilly from the air seeping through the broken window. What had previously been an improvement in giving them some small amount of fresh air was now proving to be a disadvantage.

Teyla had worked long and hard to try to carve the hinges from the wood and was making progress, but painfully slow. Apart from that one visit the men who'd captured them hadn't come back and now the three women were well aware that they were being subjugated by the withholding of their basic rights.

Thirst was dominant in their suffering although full bladders were a close second.

"Elizabeth, come place your hand here," Teyla indicated where she meant and Jessie's head came up as she sensed a change in Teyla's manner and her softly spoken instructions.

Elizabeth rose quickly from where she'd been resting and leant her weight against the door, noting with interest the wood chips littering the floor at Teyla's feet. The young woman hadn't stopped once to rest, hacking away patiently with her knife and now it looked as if she'd made real progress. The door was hanging by only its top hinge and that looked as if it was ready to come away from the wooden surround.

"We must take care when the door opens. We have no way of knowing if they have posted a guard or what scene we will be stepping into. Elizabeth, you and Jessie should remain inside whilst I scout for danger. If the way is clear I will come back and get you."

Jessie had risen to stand beside the two women and engage in the escape. She nodded along with Elizabeth at Teyla's whispered instructions. Now that they were within a hair's breadth of escape they didn't need to attract attention by talking loudly.

The final hurdle gave way under Teyla's determination and the door creaked slightly as it sagged. She grinned at them in the gloom. There was no need to encourage her companions upon silence. All three women tip-toed away from the door, allowing it to swing gently outward as far as it would go without squeaking in protest. The space wasn't huge as the latch was still keeping the door mostly closed but fortunately all three women were slender.

Teyla slipped through the gap cautiously, smiling back at her companions when she didn't immediately encounter any enemy and was gone before the others could caution her to be careful. She looked back and nodded in satisfaction as she saw Elizabeth quietly pull the door closed again to avoid detection.

She stepped immediately into the foliage close to the small hut they'd been imprisoned in and crouched down to check for sounds of her escape having been discovered. The area they were being held in seemed to hold nothing more than a dozen small huts and there wasn't much else in the area. Her keen hearing heard the murmur of distant voices and laughter and she could smell smoke in the air.

Keeping to the cover of the foliage she crept closer to the sounds and smoke and was able to discover Waldon and his men sitting around a camp fire, not showing any signs that they'd heard anything untoward. She crept back the way she'd come and eased the door to their prison open slightly.

"Come, it is clear but we must be quick. We have no way of knowing when they might decide to pay us another visit."

Elizabeth ushered Jessie out before her, following closely on her heels and the three women slipped unnoticed into the forest, breathing a collective sigh of relief at their fortune holding so far.

They moved some distance away from their captivity before stopping to gather their thoughts on directions to take. Jessie had never been much for camping and traipsing through woods and she shuddered as her imagination went into overdrive at what dangers might lurk unseen out here, ready to trip up the unwary. Teyla placed a comforting hand on her arm, squeezing slightly to reassure the girl.

Elizabeth was holding up as if this was an everyday event for her. "Which way, Teyla?" she asked, bowing to the survival instincts of the Athosian.

"I am afraid I am at as much of a loss as you, Elizabeth, but as long as we travel away from Waldon we will be going the right way. If we can get to civilisation perhaps we can get help to contact our people and find out what happened to the colonel and the others. I suggest if we can get access to a gate we attempt to make our way back to the alpha site and on to Atlantis from there."

"Agreed. Besides, we don't have any means of sending our IDC to get the shield lowered back home!"

00oo00

"Really, Sheppard, you're being an even bigger idiot than usual!" Rodney was in full rant but this had been brewing for quite a few hours now and he wasn't to be denied. "You're done. You should stay here before you do yourself irreparable damage and Carson chews my balls off for letting you."

"You a medical doctor now, McKay?" the colonel muttered, barely making eye contact with his protagonist.

The truth, sadly, was that McKay was right, he really was done. His ribs ached like one of Ronan's knives was lodged in them, his shoulder was just one large sea of agony and every footstep sent shards of electricity to his skull and threatened to cleave it from his body.

McKay snorted. "I don't need Carson's chicken bones and sheep's droppings to read what's as plain as the nose on your face, Colonel Stupid." He looked at the others standing around, seeking support in attempting to get their leader to see sense. Ronan and even Radek showed signs that they were ready to shoulder-charge Sheppard to the ground to stop his further progress, if that same action wasn't likely to do serious damage to the man. "Why is it so hard for you military types to accept that you're not superhuman? Keep a few marines and stay here with Zelenka in case anyone comes this way. You can sit on any prisoners you take and pull their fingernails off until they tell you where our people are and leave us to do the ground work."

"You all heard that, right? Rodney McKay offering to run miles without me threatening him with violence?" Sheppard had rallied a little during McKay's rant. If there was one thing to get him off his butt and back on wobbly legs it was being told he couldn't do it. He stood up as carefully as he could, taking a moment to let the planet find its axis again, and clapped the furious astrophysicist on the shoulder. "C'mon Rodney, you're holding us up."

"Yeah, well, mark my words, before this is over I probably _will_ be holding you up, and I won't be so nice when _I_ tell you 'I told you so'!"

"Rodney, you're _never_ nice when you tell me you told me so!" John quipped.

Rodney chose to be the bigger man and merely rolled his eyes.

They moved off at less than military speed leaving Zelenka and a marine in the cloaked jumper. The engineer was more than happy to remain behind, not being much of a shot with the pistol and more inclined to squawk with fright when in a skirmish. If Rodney wanted to go off and play at being a soldier that was fine with him. Some day, the greatness of being Chief Scientist might be thrust upon his shoulders as a direct result of Rodney's over-inflated opinion of his abilities as a field operative, and Radek would not fail Elizabeth as she mourned McKay's loss.

This planet might have been almost immediately ruled out of their reckoning because at first glance it seemed even more rustic than Laposta. Their initial sweep overhead had shown little in the way of modern civilisation and industrial progress.

Approaching what the LSD indicated was a small hot spot of life signs they grew more cautious. The life signs were too few to be an actual town but they were still numerous enough to be a goodly collection of bodies and it wouldn't do to stumble over them unannounced.

McKay kept close watch on the LSD, pointing them in changing directions from time to time as the signal varied.

"Wait a minute! They seem to be on the move, the signal's hopping about all over the place. Do you think their captors know we're here and are moving them out?" Rodney queried, his innate nervousness showing.

"Let's hope not. Can you keep up with the movement?" Sheppard had moved to stand at the scientist's shoulder, studying the device.

"Of _course_ I can keep up. Can you?"

Sheppard saved his breath, which was short enough not to waste on useless arguments. McKay pointed them in another direction and they found their way getting harder as they headed into the woods. But if their womenfolk were being herded through the trees, through the trees was where they'd follow.

00oo00

­

Ten minutes had elapsed since their flight from captivity and the three women were quietly optimistic of making a clean getaway when they heard faint sounds of shouting. Sound carried very clearly in the still of the night air and they had no doubt that their escape had been discovered. Their only hope now was to move as quickly as possible and place as much distance between them and their pursuers. Teyla had to thank the Ancestors that their abductors didn't seem to have any hunting animals with them to track their scent.

She glanced quickly at the young dental assistant, taking in the look of fear the girl couldn't hide, and wondered should they try to find a place to hide. It wouldn't take long for Jessie to become exhausted – the undergrowth caught and twisted around the knees, making progress heavy-going – but decided to push on for as long as they could manage. Perhaps it was time to try to find a way out of the woods.

She changed direction sharply and the two women followed without protest. How she longed to have Ronan by her side with his sword. He'd have made short work of the thick, twisting brambles that threatened their every step.

"Teyla," Elizabeth called anxiously, trying to keep her urgent whisper as quiet as possible. "They're gaining on us. I can hear them getting closer. Do you think we should hide?"

Teyla nodded without wasting breath and began searching for somewhere they could hide. Within such a dense forest they were unlikely to come across any caves so her thoughts turned to hollowed-out trees that might offer concealment. Some of the branches hung quite low and if need be they could climb into the trees and allow the leaves to hide them for a while.

00oo00

"This way, they've changed again. What the devil are they doing, trying to break our necks? Have you _seen _these brambles? It's like they've got a life of their own, a bit like a certain colonel's hair."

Sheppard had no breath to retort and struggled with his own leaden legs, his very strength being sapped by the need to step high to clear the brambles. He'd be a long time before he wanted to see trees again. His balance was precarious at best with one arm immobilised and more than once he'd thought about discarding the sling only to think again when any movement of his left arm sent bolts of agony through his head and down to his toes, stealing what little breath he still had.

They could tell they were gaining on the LSD's signals even though they were changing direction seemingly at random. All they had to do was maintain that progress and not fall over in these damned brambles. Any one of them could trip and twist an ankle and slow their progress even further and if John went down, something told him he wouldn't be getting back up under his own steam.

McKay was careful to steer their direction but never to take point. After all, he'd be the first to tell anyone who would listen that he was a very important man, probably _the_ most important man on the entire expedition and he couldn't take unnecessary risks when there was a grunt to do that for him.

He stopped suddenly and the searchers stopped beside him.

"What's up, McKay?" Ronan rumbled.

Rodney looked at the large Satedan and shrugged his shoulders. "They've stopped. I don't know why but suddenly they're not moving."

"And we're not moving because..?" Sheppard asked, not unreasonably, he thought.

"Ah, right, right. This way." McKay moved off again, the others in pursuit.

According to the signals they were about five minutes away from the women and if they'd stopped, for whatever reason, those five minutes would rapidly diminish whilst _they_ kept moving. All signs of weariness left Sheppard as he sensed an outcome imminently. The marines around him sharpened their stance and hoisted their weapons higher and even McKay seemed to stand taller.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Thanks again for the great reviews, it gladdens the heart. Thanks, too, to all the anonymous reviewers I can't thank in person and to those kind souls who have added story alerts and EVEN this little tale to their 'favourite stories' category. WOW!

_Chapter fifteen_

Elizabeth held her breath, sure that her gasps could be heard several miles away. The scramble up into the branches had been bruising and arm-wrenching and now that she was as high as she could get she was assailed by a degree of vertigo. _'Don't look down'_ she kept telling herself, annoyed at such a weakness at this time.

She tried to see where the others were but the foliage that was providing concealment was also thick enough to prevent her seeing them. Teyla had found the hollowed-out tree and had taken refuge in it, sending Jessie and her high into the trees and away from any possible confrontation. She had to accept that it was the right move as she wasn't adept at hand-to-hand combat – _except when taken over by alien entities, and hadn't that been an experience? _- but she would have loved to have been able to give Teyla some back-up.

For now all she could do was to lie along the limb of the tree and try to peer down to where she'd last seen her friend and hope for a happy outcome. Somehow, one woman against pursuing men didn't seem such good odds.

Straining to hear, she thought she could detect the swish of legs struggling through that awful brambles and the muttering of angry male voices, those of her pursuers. She held her breath for fear that even the gentle puffing of air would disturb the leaves and reveal her whereabouts.

Teyla watched from her bolt-hole and held her own breath as Waldon and his men got closer and closer. She held no doubts about the outcome of facing these men with only one small knife but she was determined to make her stand and go down fighting. At least she might be able to reduce the odds and allow the others to escape.

She wondered should she break concealment and lead the men away from where Elizabeth and Jessie were hiding. It was something Colonel Sheppard was very adept at, leading their pursuers away and doubling back when he'd evaded them, but Waldon was almost up to her tree now and the time for running was past.

The men with Waldon were proving to be expert trackers and even had they not been, the trampled brambles were like an arrow pointing in the direction they'd taken. It wouldn't take long for them to notice that the signs of progress had halted. She tightened her moist grip on the hilt of the knife and prepared to attack, longing for a stout stick to add to her arsenal.

Movement to her right distracted her momentarily and with a thrill of delight she recognised the uniforms of the men stealthily approaching the area where Waldon and his men had now stopped. They too had noticed the approaching men and were crouching low in the brambles, attempting to hide and prepare an ambush. This wasn't something Teyla was ready to allow to happen and she launched herself into the open, away from the men crouching in the foliage but clear enough to get their attention.

"There!"

The shout went up, from whom she didn't know, but suddenly the chase was on, and she was the prey. She wouldn't have given much for her chances of avoiding capture.

Her lissom body skipped and jumped like a gazelle over the fallen tree trunks and cloying brambles, making a mockery of the clumsiness of the Lapostan men who set off in pursuit, and who seemed to have forgotten the approaching Lanteans.

Some distance back Ronan and John marvelled at her athleticism as she seemed to move effortlessly through the very undergrowth that was choking their own progress. For a heart-stopping few seconds it looked as if Teyla would outrun and outsmart her pursuers, such was the distance she was clearing between herself and the others.

They watched in horror, however, as something was hurled at Teyla, catching her on the back of the head and felling her with one blow. The pursuing men closed on her position like a pack of wolves and spurred the rescuers on even quicker.

Sheppard was gasping audibly and almost on his knees as they neared their fallen comrade but he refused to slow up even now. If he'd had a free hand it would have been clutching his ribs but his sidearm was in his hand and he wasn't about to be denied revenge for whatever had been done to his people. His priority was to protect them and his own comfort would always come last.

Ronan launched himself at the men closest to him and the three men landed in a heap of snarling testosterone, trading punches and grunts. The bruisers from Laposta would have won most fights against lesser men but Ronan was in a hurry and not of a mind to toy with them. The result was swiftly brutal and ugly. Fists and dreadlocks flew in a violent flurry and after a briefly mismatched encounter only one man stood the victor.

Sheppard threw himself with little thought towards Waldon and the other man bending over Teyla, who lay still in the long grasses, and brought them down in a bruising tackle. His left shoulder, restricted by the sling, took the brunt of his unannounced contact with planet PS2-47C. His vision greyed as the world took to spinning out of control and he took a vicious kick to his stomach, adding sparkles to his fading vision.

Totally winded he was unable to contribute further to the skirmish and thought he could hear Waldon snarling his name as another kick found its target. At this rate he'd be lucky to not throw up in front of everyone.

Rodney had watched, open-mouthed in horror as Sheppard lost all rational thought and used his already abused body as a battering ram to take down the enemy.

The marines were quick to jump to the aid of their commander but not before Waldon had delivered two savage kicks to Sheppard's unprotected abdomen.

He saw the man curl into a foetal position to try to protect himself and it was with a great deal of satisfaction that he saw Ronan put his two opponents down and quickly move to Waldon. He delivered a very satisfying punch to Waldon's soft belly, the air escaping from him in an explosive gasp like a deflating balloon. The man went a very unhealthy shade of grey and his knees sagged but Ronan held him by his jacket and delivered the deciding blow to his protruding proboscis.

Waldon's day ended suddenly and comprehensively and not at all in the way he'd planned. His nose, never having been a thing of beauty, was ruined beyond the skills of even the best plastic surgeon as it exploded all over his face in a sea of agony.

The marines had zip-tied the other men by the time Rodney had realised it was all over and he was suddenly left nothing more to do than to look to his fallen comrades. Sheppard was still curled in on himself, testament enough that he was hurting, but Teyla was stirring.

Voices from behind calling his name made him whirl round, a grin splitting his face as he recognised the people approaching, their own grins trying to outdo his for brilliance.

"Rodney! Thank God!"

Elizabeth and Jessie were making their way towards them as quickly as possible but they stopped suddenly when they arrived beside him, their attention drawn to Teyla and Sheppard.

"John...Teyla?" Elizabeth didn't know whom to go to first.

Her choice was made easier for her by Teyla sitting up groggily and clutching the back of her head. She looked around her, somewhat dazed but lucid enough to take in the situation, and smiled slightly shakily in gratitude towards her rescuers.

Elizabeth continued on to the fallen form of her military commander who was still unmoving on the ground. She crouched down and touched him lightly on his right shoulder, noting for the first time the black sling supporting his left arm and when he uncurled to roll floppily onto his back she gasped at the sight of his injuries.

"John, talk to me. Are you alright?" She could see from his bruises and the pallor of his face that he was far from alright but an _'I'm fine'_ from him right now would sound wonderful.

No such statement was forthcoming, for the fall to the ground had aggravated Sheppard's collar bone and ribs and his teeth were clenched to prevent an unmanly scream. His eyes were screwed shut to detain any traitorous tears and it was all he could do to lie there in his own private hell and allow misery to wash over him.

He was aware that Elizabeth was speaking softly to him, her gentle hand patting the top of his wayward hair, and he attempted a smile to let her know that he knew she was there, but wasn't too sure if what he managed was a smile or a grimace. Whichever, any further actions were not to come from him. His body had officially had more than enough. Anything more than lying there, quietly hurting, was beyond him.

He was finding it increasingly difficult to shift enough air to breathe and wondered vaguely had Ronan suddenly sat on his chest. His world was turning black around the edges but he was aware enough to hear Elizabeth and Teyla's raised voices as they talked around and over him. They seemed concerned about something or someone but he couldn't muster enough strength to even prise open his bruised eyes never mind add anything constructive to the collective worrying so he allowed himself to relax for the first time in what seemed like a month.

Right now he wasn't too sure where he was, and wasn't sure he wanted to know because wherever it was, it hurt, but if they were in the same place as him it meant he'd found them and could call it a day.

He was blissfully unaware of the frantic call for getting the jumper to him and him to Atlantis as he drifted off to oblivion, his people all safely retrieved and gathered around him in concern.

TBC

just one chapter to go, up tomorrow. Go on, hit that review button even if it is to slag me off!


	17. Chapter 17

Thanks once again to everyone who has posted a review or added me to their 'alerts' list. We've finally arrived at the last chapter and I hope you've had as much fun on the journey as I had writing it.

_Chapter sixteen_

To no-one's surprise he ended up back in the infirmary facing the wrath of Carson Beckett who wore a long-suffering expression. Rodney sat at his bedside wearing a face-eating '_I told you so_' expression that John longed to wipe from his face, but maybe he'd get around to it in about a month's time when he could generate the energy it would take to rise from his bed.

Elizabeth and Jessie had been checked out and were deemed well enough to leave when they were ready. They were a little dehydrated and had been given instructions to take plenty of fluids and get some rest.

Teyla also had a mild concussion from the lump of wood that had brought her down and was happy to stay overnight for observation, this allowing her to keep her own vigil at John's bedside. Carson was under no illusions that that had been her intention, anyway, and had placed her bed on the other side of the colonel's.

Elizabeth had advised Jessie to make an appointment with Heightmeyer and she'd readily agreed and was now on her way to her quarters, accompanied by Graham McKeith who had already been discharged and who suddenly didn't want to be apart from his assistant. If Elizabeth read the signals coming from the young woman, she didn't seem to mind in the slightest the attention she was getting from the dentist.

Turning her attention away from the couple as they left, she sat at John's bedside beside Rodney as Carson fussed on the other side. She took hold of his right hand gently because even it seemed bruised and battered. The man was a mess from the tips of his hair to...well, to as far down as she could see, and she imagined, well beyond.

John was reclining amongst what seemed like half the pillow supply of the expedition (_and just who did bring the pillows with them?_) but he was awake, if groggy, and recalled that Teyla, Elizabeth and the young Irish woman were safe.

Other issues floated infuriatingly out of his reach for now. He knew there was something he needed to know about the search and rescue but it was like quicksilver – one minute he almost remembered and was on the point of asking, and the next minute someone would talk to him and it would vanish. He hoped this wool-gathering was temporary.

Carson looked down at his patient from examining the readings on the monitors, his face set in a scowl.

"So, Colonel, as I predicted, here we are again. D'ye think I like tae hear the sound of my own voice? The next time I tell ye you're not fit tae go off world, maybe ye'll think of listening to me."

Rodney could almost feel some sympathy for the battered man. _Almost,_ and then he remembered how he'd felt when he'd seen Sheppard lying motionless on that damned planet with the jumper still minutes away and fear drying his mouth to ashes. If Carson's tongue-lashing got through the idiot's hero-streak and talked some sense into his thick head it would be worth its ear-blistering intensity.

He realised Carson had barely stopped for breath.

"You've broken your collar bone _again_ and that's going tae take weeks tae heal properly in strapping followed by physical therapy. And ye punctured a lung with those ribs, that's what caused your shortness of breath and collapse. Ye were lucky there was a jumper handy or things could have got a lot worse for ye."

He stopped to check the fluid level in the underwater seal drainage bottle and seemed reassured at it and his patient's stability so he continued his lecture.

"Your lung had tae be re-inflated by this tube so you're not going anywhere until that's removed, and you've some very spectacular bruising on your abdomen. Ye came within a gnat's breath of losing your spleen. Another kick or two would have put that beyond debate. And what d'ye think would have happened tae ye out there if your spleen _had ruptured?"_

John chose not to think about that. Besides, thinking _hurt._

Beckett gave an exasperated sigh as he ran his hand through his hair, that same hair suddenly rivalling his patient's. These men, and this one in particular, would give him premature grey hair, if he lived that long!

"All in all ye should consider yourself more than fortunate it wasnae worse." He held up a hand to stall any backchat from his patient who was opening his mouth to retort. "And if I hear one word from ye about going tae your room even after the chest drain's out I'll have ye tied down or sedated into oblivion! Like it or not, Colonel, ye and I are destined tae spend some quality time together in your immediate future."

John had the good sense to say nothing in the heat of Carson's anger. It wasn't often that the mild-mannered physician lost his cool and when he did it paid to listen. He shut his mouth that was presently gaping and acquiesced as humbly as he knew how.

He knew the doctor was right – he'd had no right to be anywhere but resting instead of leading the rescue mission and Carson was venting his own spleen – so he took it on the chin without complaint. Maybe he'd not mention going to his quarters until the steam had stopped coming out of Beckett's ears, which, by the look of the man's complexion, could be around about Christmas. Next Christmas!

Besides which, he didn't think he could move anywhere right now. Carson was slipping the good drugs into the ubiquitous IV and it felt good to be lying down and drifting off without the need to push himself to the limits of his endurance. The chest drain was uncomfortable and tugged at his tender chest when he shifted even minutely and he could have sworn he had a squad of marines sitting on his left shoulder. Maybe a few days in the infirmary wouldn't be such a bad idea. After all, Carson was always telling him he needed to lead by example.

His fuzzy mind struggled to stay awake long enough for a few answers, though.

"Liz'beth...what about Waldo?" _Ah, THAT was what he'd been trying to remember!_

"Nae shop talk, Colonel," Carson interrupted, frustrating his attempts yet again. "There'll be plenty of time tae discuss work when you're awake again. I've given ye a hefty sedative – it's the only way I can be sure ye'll stay put – so all talking for now is forbidden except by me. Elizabeth, be a pet and come back tae see him tomorrow. Rodney, Ronan, unless you're in need of my attention, that includes ye, too. Go on, now, shoo!"

John grimaced in frustration. He'd been so close to finally sorting out his fuzzy memories and Carson had sneaked in with his damned drugs. He'd have to have a talk with the good doctor when he could actually string two words together. For now he'd just...what was he going to do? Oh yes... sleep.

"Despotic sheepherder!" McKay was heard to mutter but he'd noticed Sheppard's eyes glazing over and knew the conversation was finished for now.

He could always sneak back later when Beckett had gone off to worry his livestock.

He noticed Ronan give Sheppard a final look to check that the man really was alright before taking his leave of Teyla who smiled as if to say she'd look out for the colonel.

He took Elizabeth by the elbow and steered her towards the exit. "Come one, Elizabeth, let's leave Colonel Stupid to his mercies before the Highland Horror breaks out the big needles. The veterinarian world's loss is Atlantis' gain. So, what _did_ you do with Waldo, anyway?"

Elizabeth sighed as she cast a glance back at the battered form of her friend and 2IC who had closed his eyes and was settling into his pillow mountain.

"We can't start running a penal colony, Rodney. Like it or not we'll have to let him go. We'll simply put out word to the Athosians and all other planets we've made friends with to avoid Laposta and PS2-47C and lock their gates out of our address book."

Rodney's mobile eyebrows soared towards his receding hairline. "Sheppard will be piss...er...annoyed with you. I'm pretty sure he'll want some form of retribution for what happened and I can't say I'd blame him. As for contacting the people we've actually managed to _make_ friends with, that shouldn't take very long!"

00oo00

The following morning John was awake enough to know that he'd really rather still be unconscious. Everything hurt, right down the list to his very eyebrows, and he was tempted to get Ronan to pay Waldo a visit with his blaster.

He'd gleaned enough from Carson the previous evening to know that the slimy little man was in the holding cell after having some first aid rendered to his broken nose, but Carson had muttered something along the lines of 'extenuating circumstances' and John's analgesia-riddled brain had failed to work that one out. As far as he could tell, there could be no circumstances that would allow anyone to act the way Waldo had.

The thought of Ronan busting the man's nose gave him cause to grin, though. Until the grin aggravated his split lip and he scowled instead. That hurt his eyebrows so he stopped that, too.

He was propped against his mountain of pillows, his colouring rivalling the brightest rainbow and everyone who called to visit winced in sympathy. Both of his eyes were swollen closed and heavy bruising on his jaw and exposed torso added up to a sea of pain.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?"

Lorne's voice interrupted his internal musings and general wallowing in a small sea of self-pity. He hated being off his feet for any length of time and Carson had been by just this morning re-iterating just exactly how long and protracted John's recovery would be, muttering things under his breath about no-one listening to him.

He was on the verge of saying_ 'I'm fine' _but he sensed Beckett hovering so he changed it to "I'll live."

"Good to hear it, sir. Dr Weir asked me to let you know she and the doc would stop by shortly to bring you up to speed on the discussion about Waldo...er...Waldon and his cronies."

Sheppard struggled to find some way of lying comfortably and gave it up as a hopeless task. He pinned Lorne with his best glare, which considering it was from black and swollen eyes, was well below par.

"I wasn't aware that there _was _a discussion. Any decisions need to be okayed by me." He tried not to sound petulant, but after all, he _was_ the military head. "What've you done with them?"

"We've got them all together in the Wraith holding cell. It's a bit of a tight squeeze but we weren't too concerned for their creature comforts, as I'm sure you'll appreciate. You were in a bit of a state when they brought you back, sir, and I do believe the doctor was about ready to blow his stack."

_Lorne recalled Beckett's expression as he'd had the news relayed from the inbound jumper that the colonel was unconscious and experiencing breathing difficulties. _

_When the hatch had opened Beckett had been the first person to enter the jumper and even the marines, not easily intimidated, had wisely stepped out of his way as he'd barged past to get to his patient. _

_Muttered oaths and slurs to Sheppard's and the Lapostans' parentage had spilled out from the depths of the jumper as Carson and his team had resuscitated the colonel sufficiently to transport him to the infirmary._

_Evan hadn't been able to determine much about his CO's condition from the little he could see of him but the very fact that he was lying on a gurney without protest, an oxygen mask obscuring his face, told the major that things could be better._

_He wanted to follow the gurney as it and its medical flotilla made their speedy way to the nearest transporter but other matters had to take priority, like the safe arrival back of the missing people._

_Elizabeth had followed the disappearing medical personnel with her eyes before reluctantly turning back to the waiting major and acknowledging that a short debrief was necessar,y and not long after that, Ronan and the marines had arrived in a second jumper with their prisoners. _

_Anger had almost consumed him when he'd set eyes on the people responsible for their trouble and it had taken a few moments to get himself under control. Much as he had been tempted when he'd seen the state of his CO, they couldn't actually go around shooting unarmed people, no matter what they'd intended or done._

_Maybe he could let Ronan have a 'chat' with them first, all restrictions lifted. He was pretty sure the Satedan would have no quibbles about it and the colonel wouldn't need to know._

00oo00

A short time later John's rest was disturbed by Elizabeth settling herself at his bedside. He opened his bruised eyes as far as possible and inspected her for signs of injury or distress. She returned his gaze with candour and he satisfied himself that outwardly she seemed okay, with no hint of evasiveness or trying to hide anything.

"You alright?"

"Yes, John, I'm _fine_," she stressed his favourite word and he smirked. "Teyla took a bit of a knock but was discharged this morning. As usual, you were the one to come off worst and from what Carson and Rodney have told me, you had no business being out there in the first place. I do not _ever_ want you risking your own health again to rescue me, do I make myself clear?"

"Elizabeth, this is my job, to make sure _my_ people are safe, and like it or not, if that means risking my own health, my life, that's what I'll do. And you may be the civilian commander of this base but you still count as _my_ people." He grinned gently to rob the words of their seriousness and she grinned right back at him.

To be honest, she had never given up hope of rescue simply because she knew _he'd_ never give up, unless he was on his death bed. However, it would be a long time before she got over the sight of him bleeding and gasping for breath, pale and shocked, in that foreign field.

"So, Lorne hinted that you'd made a decision about Waldo..." he gave her an opening.

Elizabeth sighed as she contemplated the upcoming conversation. She wasn't quite ready to make the explanation on her own and looked round for her back-up.

Carson had allowed the leaders some time together before he approached the bed. He had news for the colonel but wasn't too sure how it would be received. Stepping forward now to close the gap he assessed his patient as he approached the bed.

The colonel was pale with a sheen of sweat on his brow but resolutely refusing to use the morphine pump provided. It failed to surprise Carson because he knew how much the man hated to be sedated and out of the loop but it annoyed the healer to see patients suffer unnecessarily.

"Hello, Elizabeth," he smiled at the brunette before scolding his patient. "Colonel, that wee thing by your hand isnae there for decoration. You're supposed tae press it tae get some pain relief."

"In a minute, Doc. I understand you've come to some decision about Waldo," Elizabeth mouthed _Waldon_ to Carson and he nodded, "and I need a clear head to hear you out. I think you said something about extenuating circumstances, so, spill."

Carson drew up another chair.

"When the search team brought back one of the Lapostans we took some blood samples and one of them showed an aberrant result so we ran more tests. We've since run the same tests on Waldon...er, Waldo...and they're a match. I said 'extenuating circumstances' although I agree that nothing condones the abduction and forced impregnation of _anyone_ but the man _was_ fighting for the survival of his race."

This was the first time John had heard this but Elizabeth could understand why he was still looking murderous. She'd had time to absorb Carson's findings overnight and wasn't sure yet that she was calm enough to deliver the news without the kind physician by her side.

"That doesn't excuse..."

"Nae, you're right, it disnae, but hear me out. Waldon's people have an aggressive form of diabetes mellitus, type I, most likely triggered by the high sugar content in their diet although by now there's probably a genetic defect, too. Technically, their pancreas disnae produce the necessary amount of insulin needed to break down the sugar they take in. Back on Earth we can control this with dietary measures and insulin injections but even then there is still nae cure for the condition. It's an insidious disease, respecter of no-one, and wreaks more damage on the body than many people realise."

Carson paused in his explanation as John shifted minutely, biting his lip as he tried to get comfortable. The doctor in him wanted to reach forward and press the stubborn man's morphine release but he restrained himself.

"Anyway, as I was saying, diabetes is a nasty wee bugger. It causes strokes, heart attacks, vasculitis, retinal neuropathy...ach, I could list complaints the length of your arm and still go on. The bottom line is that the Lapostans were showing signs of many of these symptoms but the people they'd gone tae for help didnae recognise it. So all _they'd_ suggested was that they needed new blood lines introduced tae breed healthier babies."

"We've spoken to Waldon, John, and told him that he has only one choice in this matter. He simply can't be released to continue to abduct women to use for breeding purposes so his only option is to accept our help. Carson believes that he can train the people the Lapostans have contact with to develop their own insulin. Together with some education into what they can and can't eat, and the proper control of their condition, he feels that future generations of Laposta can be protected." Elizabeth had taken hold of his hand again, her cool fingers a soothing balm.

'"Synthesizing human insulin is a multi-step biochemical process that depends on basic recombinant DNA techniques and an understanding of the insulin gene,"' Carson quoted, and Elizabeth and John simply gaped at him. He sighed before explaining further. "What I'm trying tae say is that it's not simple but it _is_ possible to help these people. All we need now is your okay and we can get started."

John sighed as carefully as his injuries would allow and pondered his own decision. He was a realist and not a vengeful man, as he'd once told Kolya to his cost, and he had to accept that they couldn't start keeping prisoners long-term. It would be ideal if this screwed-up galaxy had a policing element they could hand miscreants over to and a nice tidy planet to exile them to, but as the Lanteans were the closest thing to that there was nothing else for it but to send the men home. It just never worked when you tried to get the military to act as a police force, their motivation was so different.

This time they'd managed to rescue their people and apart from himself, nearly everyone else had come away relatively unscathed. They wouldn't always be so lucky. Something about this galaxy had it in for them and it seemed everywhere they turned they just made more enemies. How many more Kolyas, Replicators, Michaels and Waldos could there be out there?

Maybe some day their luck would change. Then again, if it did maybe he'd grow old and grey with boredom.

END

My goodness, but that was fun. I haven't had as many reviews before and certainly not for several years. It was very encouraging and I must try harder to be a more prolific reviewer, myself.


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